“Are they in Irish?”
“Oh! dear, no.”
“Then let me have the two barrels.”
“Congratulate me, old fellow.”
“On what?”
“I have been claimed by Irish cousins.”
“What a nuisance!” observed Mr. Minniver in a tone of intense disgust, and letting his eye-glass fall on the table with a click, whilst he took a sip of the rich, tawny wine.
“That’s not enough. To claim me does not fill their cup of happiness. They are coming over to see me.”
“By Jove!” wiping the glass carefully and screwing it hard into the corner of his eye.
“Yes. Just read this letter. This is the one that claims me, that takes me into the fold, and here’s another that repudiates me.”