"How are you, N-N-Nell?"
"Quite well, thank you, T-T-Ted."
"Sheila Pat," tweaking her pig-tail, "don't they grow straight pig-tails in Ireland?"
"Please don't be foolish," said Sheila Pat, ramming a fur rabbit into the box.
He looked at Nell and raised his eyebrows.
"Sheila Pat's cross still, aren't you, Atom?" Nell said.
"I'm innoyed."
"Tell me about it," he begged.
Denis glanced up from a letter he was writing, then bent his head again.
"Two wicked hypocrites came and they told stories, too. He said he was Irish! Irish, was it? Sure 'twas sooner goriller-monkeys they'd be! They sang outside, and we gave them some money. Did they think we were unborned babies that they'd be sayin' they were Irish?"