He murmured excuses to Patsy for the peril he had narrowly escaped.
"She answers to my hand like a horse," he said. "That time I was dreaming and I pulled her a bit too suddenly."
As he got out at his own door he said something half aloud; being a solitary bachelor man he had got into a trick of talking to himself.
"I did hear that boy of the O'Garas' was sweet on her," he said. "My word, what a pretty kettle of fish!"
"I beg your pardon, doctor?" said Patsy.
"Oh nothing, nothing. I was wool-gathering. Come in and wait; I'll have the medicine ready in less than no time."
CHAPTER XXV
IN WHICH TERRY FINDS A DEAD MAN
Terry arrived a little before midnight, having made the difficult cross-country journey from the Curragh, looking so troubled and unhappy that his mother's heart was soft over him as when he was the little boy she remembered.
He bent his six foot of height to kiss her, and his voice was husky as he asked how his father was.