"Well, I won't be able to see the point of it if you perforate me. Go on, Mrs. Malone."
"So he swore he 'd get even--"
"The dairyman? Oh, then he did have his doubts after all? Whom did he suspect, Mrs. Malone?"
Moore leaped off the table just in time to escape a vicious thrust from the pin, as Mrs. Malone, good-naturedly indifferent to his interruption, continued her recital.
"Ike thracked the fine fellow home, or at least as far as he could, and though he lost sight of him without locatin' his house, he learned beyond all doubtin' that he is a great gentleman of wealth and fashion."
"Ike is? I 'll have to look him up if that is so," said Moore, pleasantly. "Evidently the dairyman was right to be suspicious, and what does Mrs. Dairyman say now?"
"I 'm not talkin' about Ike," replied Mrs. Malone, scornfully. "It's the strange lad who is the rich man."
"Oh, I see, Mrs. Malone. I thought you had discovered the reason for the dairyman's suspicions. Now I think he was quite unreasonable to have his doubts."
"Go on, Mrs. Malone. I think it is delightfully romantic," said Bessie, paying no attention to the remarks of her lover.
"Romantic!" repeated Moore, in a disgusted tone. "Sure, put a bit of a scoundrel after a lass of lower station and instead of shouting for the watch she always says 'How romantic!'