“Who is she?” I eagerly asked.
“She’s the widdy av a dacent, sober man be the name av O’Hoolahan, that died av the horrors av dhrink.”
“Poor thing!” I muttered half-aloud.
“Poor? Begorra, it’s him that left her warm an’ snug, wud three av the elegantest childer.”
“Three children!” I interposed, somewhat disconcerted. The name O’Hoolahan was bad enough, but three little O’Hoolahans!
“She left this parcel wud me.”
“When?”
“A few minits ago, whin she got out.”
“Got out? Where!”
“Out av the third class, foreninst the doore there.”