“Good morning, my son,” said Father Tierney.
“Good morning, Father.”
Father Tierney took off his hat and with it fanned his rosy, open face. “Holy Virgin! ’Tis warmer here in the District than it is in Maryland—Maryland being my home, my son.”
“Which half of Maryland, Father?”
“The ‘Maryland, my Maryland’ half, my son.”
“That,” said Stafford, “is the half that I like best. It is the nearest to Virginia.”
“What,” said Father Tierney, “if ye had a wishing-cap, would ye wish for?”
“Gold and a blue suit, Father.”
“A uniform, ye mane?”
“No. A hospital steward’s suit. Blue linen. I’ve got it worked out.”