"I have a bet of a sovereign on it, and I'll take the money now, if you like. Will that convince you?"
"No; I'll pay when you come back and tell me you have been there. But if you really are going to that low beershop, tell me what you are going there for."
"Amusement. I find you dull."
O'Hanlon screwed up his eyes and regarded O'Brien closely.
"What is it?" he asked.
He knew O'Brien much too well to think he meant to be offensive, or even smart at the expense of an old friend without good reason. He suspected O'Brien was waiving a direct answer, which might cause pain to his hearer.
"It's something you suspect, and don't like to tell me. You're not going over to the dispensary to ask Dr. Flynn to drop in presently, as though by accident, and find me here, and make an informal examination?"
This was said half-playfully.
"Take care," said O'Brien, as he buttoned on his overcoat. "If you don't knock off talking about your infernal sanity, you'll drive me mad; and won't that be a nice kettle of fish? Now look here: Are you, or are you not, coming with me to the 'Blue Anchor' to smoke a frugal pipe and drink a frugal pint of beer--or, more correctly, a pint of frugal beer? Yes or no?"
"No," answered O'Hanlon, sinking back hopelessly on the chair from which he had risen. "It would be as much as my professional position is worth."