“Out wid ye!” said she, flourishing a broom, which she had snatched up. “Is that the way you inter a dacint woman’s house, ye spalpeen!”
“I want my brother,” said Pietro, drawing back a little before the amazon who disputed his passage.
“Go and find him, thin!” said Bridget McGuire, “and kape out of my house.”
“But he is here,” said Pietro, angrily; “I saw him come in.”
“Then, one of the family is enough,” said Bridget. “I don’t want another. Lave here wid you!”
“Give me my brother, then!” said Pietro, provoked.
“I don’t know anything of your brother. If he looks like you, he’s a beauty, sure,” returned Mrs. McGuire.
“Will you let me look for him?”
“Faith and I won’t. You may call him if you plase.”
Pietro knew that this would do very little good, but there seemed nothing else to do.