"What keeps Patsy Dolan wid the car?" she inquired. "Hycy, do you see
any appearance of him?"
"No, ma'am," replied the son; "I didn't know you wanted him."
Jemmy looked at her with a good deal of surprise, and, after whiffing
away the smoke, asked--"And well, Rosha--begs pardon--Mrs. Burke--is it
a fair question to ax where you are bound for?"
"Fair enough, Mr. Burke," she replied; "but I'm not goin' to answer it."
"You're bound for a journey, ma'am, I think?"
"I'm bound for a journey, sir."
"Is it a long journey, Mrs. Burke?"
"No, indeed; it's a short journey, Mister Burke."
"Ah!" replied her husband, uttering a very significant groan; "I'm
afraid it is."
"Why do you groan, Mr. Burke?"
"Oh it doesn't signify," he replied, dryly; "it's no novelty, I believe,
to hear a man--a married man--groan in this world; only if you wor for
a long journey, I'd be glad to give you every assistance in my power."
"You hear that, Hycy; there's affection?" she exclaimed--"wishin' me to
go my long journey!"
"Would you marry again, Mr. Burke?" asked the worthy son.
"I think not," replied Jemmy. "There's gintlemen enough o' the name--I'm
afraid one too many."
"Well," exclaimed his wife, assuming something as near to her conception
of the look of a martyr as possible, "I'm sufferin' at all events; but
I know my crown's before me.
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