“You can’t get Marg to see what he’s after!” said she; “she has no more intelligence of what Mickey wants....”
“Not like some...!” said Dan.
“Have behaviour, now,” said Kitty, pretending to be angry; “but of all the simple girls...!”
Maybe that was just as well. For if Margaret had ever suspected what was being thought about her and Heffernan, would she have done what she did? Would she have come forward, when Mickey was leaving, to help him on with his big frieze coat? And then, when no one else made a move, would she go out of the house after him, and over to where his car was, to help him up on it? Indeed, she felt puzzled and half indignant that none of the others offered to do anything for the crippled old man. But they were holding back, out of good-nature; while Margaret’s heart was swelling with pity for him, and anger at their indifference.
“To think that Dan and the whole of them are there! and they well knowing ... but when people is engaged with sport for themselves, they forget very easy!” she ended, as with a great deal to do, she got Mickey ready for the road.
“I’m obliged to ye!” said Heffernan, that never used two words where one would do.
“It’s little enough, after all you done for me!” Margaret made answer.
Then he dropped his stick and she picked it up and handed it to him on the car.
“I’d be badly off, without that!” he said.
She saw that he had the rug just laid loose across his knees, and she tucked it well about him.