“Have you heard the news? Dreadful! Horrible! But I have no doubt they deserved it.”
“You can’t approve of this?”
“No, I don’t approve of it. I don’t approve of shooting at all; but you must remember how the Irish people are goaded.”
Without warning there was the sound of firing outside. We crowded to the window in time to see an armoured car rolling by at the end of the road, and people flying in all directions. A Lewis gun on top of the car was firing shots into the air at intervals.
“That’s blank cartridge,” Himself said. “It’s to clear the streets.”
“There!” Mrs. Slaney exclaimed. “Why do they terrify innocent people like that? No wonder the people of Ireland are bitter. Ireland is the most crimeless country in the world when she is left alone.”
Mrs. O’Grady came in with our teapot.
“You’ll feel the better, mum, iv a cup of tea,” she declared. “It do be dreadful, and all those beautiful young men.”
“I can’t understand why we didn’t hear the shooting this morning,” I said. “It must have been all round.”
“I’ll leave you to your tea,” said Mrs. Slaney, who wanted to stay. “You won’t be going out to-night. Perhaps you’ll come up and see me.”