"Nothing," she replied; "only if you all intend to have any rest
to-night, throw yourselves in the shake-down there, an' go sleep. I'm
not to sit up the whole night here, I hope?"
Philip, and Ned, and Teddy tumbled themselves into the straw, and in a
few minutes were in a state of perfect oblivion.
"Hycy Burke is a bad boy, Bat," she said, as the husband was about to
follow their example; "but he is marked--I've set my mark upon him."
"You appear to know something particular about him," observed her
husband.
"Maybe I do, an' maybe I don't," she replied; "but I tell you, he's
marked--that's all--go to bed now."
He tumbled after the rest, Kate stretched herself in an, opposite
corner, and in a few minutes this savage orchestra was in full chorus.
What an insoluble enigma is woman! From the specimen of feminine
delicacy and modest diffidence which we have just presented to the
reader, who would imagine that Kate Hogan was capable of entering into
the deep and rooted sorrow which Kathleen Cavanagh experienced when made
acquainted with the calamity which was about to crush her lover. Yet so
it was. In truth this fierce and furious woman who was at once a thief,
a liar, a drunkard, and an impostor, hardened in wickedness and deceit,
had in spite of all this a heart capable of virtuous aspirations, and
of loving what was excellent and good.
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