"The wretch, the rascal, the scoundrel! If he ever dares to come to this house again, I'll slam the door in his face."
I knew he loved Martin almost as much as I did, so I paid no heed to the names he was calling him, but I tried to say that I alone had been to blame, and that Martin had done nothing.
"Don't tell me he has done nothing," cried Father Dan. "I know what he has done He has told you he loves you, hasn't he?"
"No."
"He has been colloguing with you, then, and getting you to say things?"
"Never."
"Pitying and sympathising with you, anyway, in your relations with your husband?"
"Not for one moment."
"He had better not! Big man as he is in England now, I'll warm his jacket for him if he comes here making mischief with a child of mine. But thank the Lord and the holy saints he's going away soon, so you'll see no more of him."
"But he is coming to Castle Raa," I said, "and I am to see him to-morrow night."