He said he'd bet no more, but he knew there was some chicanery, or dom hy-pocritical prognostication, somewhere.
I then asked the chambermaid to raise the dress again, which was done, and Irish left the room disgusted, and muttering a few oaths to himself. Afterwards he paid the cigars for the crowd.
He then asked if I wud explain what the divil right any chambermaid had to wear pants, anyhow.
I answered that it was none of my business, and I hoped I was too much of a gentleman to meddle with other people's private affairs.
This last assertion offended him very much, and he quickly gave me to understand that he was as much of a gintleman as I was and niver failed to moind his own business.
I told him that might be, but it was very strange to me how he should make such singular discoveries.
He then made a full explanation, and I overlooked it all.
