"You know where my club is, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Well, be there at seven for dinner. Tell the butler and the housekeeper. Mr. Crawford has a box to the fight to-night, and he thought perhaps you'd like to go along with us."
"A boxing-match?"
"Ten rounds, light-weights; and fast boys, too. Both Irish."
"Really, I shall be glad to go."
"Webb?"
"Yes."
"Never use that word 'really' to me. It's un-Irish."
Thomas heard a chuckle before the receiver at the other end clicked on the hook. What a father this hearty, kindly, humorous Irishman would have made for a son!