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He's a poor little crathur; the face of him this instant isn't the width of a ha'penny herrin'." "And he so continted," said Mrs. Quin, "until he took his fantigue. Rael quare it is." "Most things do be quare and ugly these times," said Mrs. Ahern, "Goodness help us all. There's poor Mrs. Duff thravellin' off to-morra, to go stay wid her brother at Gortnakil.
And, suddenly, Soames became conscious of feeling weak, and hot, and shaky. Sheer nerves at the meeting before him! As Aunt Juley might have said quoting "Superior Dosset" his nerves were "in a proper fantigue."
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