"They may say what they like, by the hokey! all the world over; but divil bellows me, if ever I seen sich another beautiful, fascinating, flusthrating famale, since I was the size iv that musthard pot—may the divil bile me if I did," ejaculated Mr. Toole, rapturously throwing himself into the chair with something between a sigh and a grunt, and ready to burst with love and repletion.
The fair maiden endeavoured to look contemptuous; but she smiled in spite of herself.
"Well, well, Mr. Toole," she exclaimed, "I see there is no use in talking; a fool's a fool to the end of his days, and some people's past cure. But tell me, how's Mr. O'Connor?"
"Bedad, it's time for me to think iv it," exclaimed Larry, briskly. "Do you know what brought me here?"
"How should I know?" responded she, with a careless toss of her head, and a very conscious look.
"Well," replied Mr. Toole, "I'll tell you at once. I lost the masther as clane as a new shilling, an' I'm fairly braking my heart lookin' for him; an' here I come, trying would I get the chance iv hearing some soart iv a sketch iv him."
"Is that all?" inquired the damsel, drily.
"All!" ejaculated Larry; "begorra. I think it's enough, an' something to spare. All! why, I tell you the masther's lost, an' anless I get some news of him here, it's twenty to one the two of us 'ill never meet in this disappinting world again. All! I think that something."
"An' pray, what should I know about Mr. O'Connor?" inquired the girl, tartly.
"Did you see him, or hear of him, or was he out here at all?" asked he.