"Ye're right, Mary!" Danny murmured meekly. "Ye're a fine woman!"
"Hold yir tongue, Dan Agin, or, cripple that ye are, I'll be givin' you the lickin' that I've wanted to give you these forty years every time ye've let me have me own way when I oughtn't have had it!"
Rosie stood up to go. "I have one more paper to deliver, Mis' Agin, so I'll have to say good-bye. If Terry was to know that I stopped to talk before I had delivered all my papers, he'd beat me half to death."
Mrs. Agin smiled on her affectionately. "Good-bye, Rosie dear. And mind, now, if ever again Danny goes talkin' such nonsense, ye're to call me, and I'll soon settle him. Now run along, or that brute of a Terry'll be after you."
"Good-bye, Rosie," Danny called out, in a tone of hypocritical meekness that made Rosie's blood boil anew.
Rosie stopped and turned about to give him the look of scorn that he deserved.
"Danny Agin, you just ought to be ashamed o' yourself the way you treat poor Mis' Agin!"
"I am, Rosie," Danny gasped in a voice of mock tears exasperating beyond words.