"Against whom, you epitome of Italian hatred."
Mr. Jinks frowns, and says:
"Against O'Brallaghan!"
"No!" cries Ralph.
"Yes, sir."
"I, myself, hate that man!"
"Then we can assist each other."
"Yes—yes."
"We can make it nice, and good, and fine," says Mr. Jinks, smacking his lips over the rum, as if he was imbibing liquid vengeance, and was pleased with the flavor.
"No!" cries Ralph again.