"Why do they call it that?"
"Why, faith, you'll know that when you hear the wind blowing through it in winter. It screeches so you can hear it at Drumboyne. Do you know that I live at Drumboyne?"
"That's the village between here and Cloyne is it not?"
"That's it. But do you know where I live in Drumboyne?"
"No."
"Well, now, by any chance, did you see a bungalow on the right after you left Drumboyne, as you were driving here that day on the car with the young chap—Mr. What's-his-name?"
"Dashwood. Yes, I did see a bungalow."
"That's mine," said Mr. Giveen with a sigh. "As nice a house as there is in the country, if it wasn't that I was all alone in it."
"Don't you keep a servant?"
"A servant! Sure, of course I keep a servant—two. But it wasn't a servant I was meaning. Shall I tell you what I was meaning?"