"Sure it's the big position they should give you on College Green when they get their own government again, Frank O'Connell," the little doctor said, shaking his head knowingly.
"The race has been everythin' to me: the prize—if there's one—'ud be nothin'. A roof to me head and a bite to eat is all I need by day—so long as the little girl is cared for."
"An' where is the little blue-eyed maiden? Peg o' your heart? Where is she at all?"
"It's in London she is."
"London!"
"Aye. She's with an aunt o' hers bein' educated an' the like"
"Is it English ye're goin' to bring her up?" cried the doctor in horror and disgust. "No, it's not, Docthor McGinnis—an' ye ought to know me betther than to sit there an' ask me such a question. Bring her up English? when the one regret o' me life is I never knew enough Gaelic to tache her the language so that we'd be free of the English speech anyway. Bring her up English! I never heard the like o' that in me life."
"Then what is she doin' there at all?"
"Now listen, McGinnis, and listen well—an' then we'll never ask such a question again. When the good Lord calls me to Himself it's little enough I'll have to lave little Peg. An' that thought has been throublin' me these years past. I'm not the kind that makes money easily or that kapes the little I earn. An' the chance came to give Peg advantages I could never give her. Her mother's people offered to take her and it's with them she has been this last month. But with all their breedin' an' their fine manners and soft speech they've not changed Peg—not changed her in the least. Her letthers to me are just as sweet an' simple as if she were standin' there talkin' to me. An' I wish she were standin' here—now—this minnit," and his eyes filled up and he turned away.
McGinnis jumped up quickly and turned the tall, bronzed man around with a hand on each shoulder—though he had to stand tip-toe to do it, and poured forth his feelings as follows: