“Do you really want me to tell you about O'Shanaghgan?” she said slowly.
“Certainly, my dear.”
“Certainly, Nora. I am sure you can describe things very well,” said her aunt, in an encouraging voice, from the other end of the table.
“Then I will tell you,” said Nora. She paused for a moment, then, to the astonishment and disgust of Mrs. Hartrick, rose to her feet.
“I cannot talk about it sitting down,” she said. “There's the sea, you know—the wild, wild Atlantic. In the winter the breakers are—oh! I have sometimes seen them forty feet high.”
“Come, come, Nora!” said Terence,
“It is true, Terry; the times when you don't like to go out.”
Terence retired into his shell.
“I have seen the waves like that; but, oh! in the summer they can be so sweet and conoodling.”
“What in the world is that?” said Mrs. Hartrick.