Rat-tat-tat!
"Are you dressed, Mister Moore?" asked Mrs. Malone, her ear against the crack of the door.
Moore winked at Buster and motioned him to admit the landlady, who entered with her accustomed independence of carriage, apparently expecting and prepared for contention.
"Ah, ha," said she, triumphantly. "You didn't thrick me this time, Tom Moore."
"On the contrary, I have been patiently waiting for your coming, Mrs. Malone," replied the poet, politely.
The landlady looked incredulous.
"Where is the rint?" she inquired, belligerently.
"Here in my dressing gown," answered Moore, exhibiting a long tear in the garment mentioned. "A big rip it is, too. Have you your needle handy?"
"I wants no fooling, Misther Thomas Moore," declared Mrs. Malone, drawing her bushy brows low in a ferocious frown.
"Were you ever in love, Mrs. Malone?"