They shook hands seriously. As Inwood left, Dineen came in.
Rivett looked at Dineen without speaking for a full minute, then he said slowly:
"My daughter is going to be married."
"God bless my soul!" ejaculated the big Irishman—"not that child!"
"Yes; I guess she means business, John."
"When?—in the name of the saints!"
"When she's ready, I presume.... She's a good girl.... They're good children. They've stayed as long as they could. Their time is nearly up.... But the smallest hut is a big barn when the children have taken wing.... I wish I could have seen more of my father and mother.... But I had to go out into a lean world and hunt a living."
"The best of us have passed that way," observed Dineen; and, after a moment: "Who's the lucky divil, Jacob?"
"Young Inwood."
"Stuart Inwood's boy?"