"Danny Agin, are you laughing?"
Danny slowly raised his head and, drawing off the handkerchief, began wiping his eyes.
"Laughin', is it? Why, it's weepin' I am! Don't you see the tears?"
Rosie looked at him doubtfully. "I don't see what you're weeping about."
Danny shook his head mournfully. "It's a way I have, Rosie. A thought came over me while we was talkin' and off I went. And—and here it comes again!"
Danny reached for his handkerchief, but too late. The thought seemed to hit him full in the stomach, and back he fell into his chair, rolling and spluttering.
"Danny Agin, you are laughing!"
Danny wiped his eyes again. "Perhaps I am this time, Rosie. I'm took different at different times."
Rosie frowned on him severely. "Well, I think you were laughing the first time and you needn't deny it. And, what's more, I don't see anything to laugh at."
"Whisht now, darlint, and I'll tell you. I'll talk to you like man to man. 'Twas thought of the ladies."