“Beast!” cried Phyl.
She rushed from the room and upstairs like a mad creature. The bang of her bedroom door closed the incident.
“Now don’t be taking on so,” said Hennessey. “You’ve both of you lost your temper.”
“Lost my temper—maybe. I’m going all the same. Right back to the States. I’m off to Dublin by the next train and you’d better come and finish the business there. You’d better have her to stay with you in Dublin. I don’t want to see her again. Anyhow, we’ll settle all that later.”
“Maybe that’s the best,” said Hennessey. “My wife will look after her till she’s ready to go to the States—if she wants to.”
“Please God she doesn’t,” replied the other.
Phyl did not see Pinckney again. He went off to Dublin by the two-ten train with Hennessey, the latter promising to be back on the morrow to arrange things.