Mr. Luke Gamble either did not hear him, or did not care a farthing what he said; and he hummed his tune very contentedly.
'And I had, moreover,' said he, 'to make another admission for the same reason, videlicet, that Mary Matchwell, who now occupies a portion of the Mills, the promovent in this suit, and Mary Duncan mentioned in that certificate, are one and the same person. Here's our answer to their notice, admitting the fact.'
'I thank you,' said Toole again, rather savagely, for a glance over his shoulder had shown him the attorney's face grinning with malicious amusement, as it seemed to him, while he readjusted the packet of papers from which he had just taken the notice; 'I saw it, Sir, your brother lawyer, Mr. O'Reegan, Sir, showed it me this morning.'
And Toole thought of poor little Sally Nutter, and all the wreck and ruin coming upon her and the Mills, and began to con over his own liabilities, and to reflect seriously whether, in some of his brisk altercations on her behalf with Dirty Davy and his client, he might not have committed himself rather dangerously; and especially the consequences of his morning's collision with Davy grew in darkness and magnitude very seriously, as he reflected that his entire statement had turned out to be true, and that he and his client were on the winning side.
'It seems to me, Sir, you might have given some of poor Mrs. Nutter's friends at Chapelizod a hint of the state of things. I, Sir, and Father Roach—we've meddled, Sir, more in the business—than—than—but no matter now—and all under a delusion, Sir. And poor Mistress Sally Nutter—she doesn't seem to trouble you much, Sir.'
He observed that the attorney was chuckling to himself still more and more undisguisedly, as he slipped the notice back again into its place.
'You gentlemen of the law think of nothing, Sir, but your clients. I suppose 'tis a good rule, but it may be pushed somewhat far. And what do you propose to do for poor Mistress Sally Nutter?' demanded Toole, very sternly, for his blood was up.
'She has heard from us this morning,' said Mr. Gamble, grining on his watch, 'and she knows all by this time, and 'tisn't a button to her.'
And the attorney laughed in his face; and Nutter who had looked sulky and uncomfortable, could resist no longer, and broke into a queer responsive grin. It seemed to Toole like a horrid dream.
There was a tap at the door just at this moment.