“Sure, Misther Barres, you’re that kind to the child——”
“Somebody ought to be. Do you know that there was nobody she knew to see her graduate to-day, excepting myself?”
“Oh, the poor darling! Sure, I was that busy——”
“Busy sleeping off a souse,” said Barres drily. “And by the way, who is that stolid, German-looking girl who alternates with you here at the desk?”
“Miss Kurtz, sorr.”
“Oh. She seems stupid. Where did you dig her up?”
“A fri’nd o’ mine riccominds her highly, sorr.”
“Is that so? Who is he? One of your German pedlar friends at Grogan’s? Be careful, Soane. You Sinn Feiners are headed for trouble.”
He turned and mounted the stairs. Soane looked after him with an uneasy expression, partly humorous.
“Ah, then, Mr. Barres,” he said, “don’t be botherin’ afther the likes of us poor Irish. Is there anny harrm in a sup o’ beer av a Dootchman pays?”