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Yes, seven p.m. was Martin's great hour, and Aunt Dorothy's great hour, and old Mr. Jollyboy's great hour, and Barney's too; for each knew that the labours of the day were done, and that the front door was locked for the night, and that a great talk was brewing.
For a few seconds there was a dead silence, while an expression of puzzled disappointment passed over Mr Jollyboy's ruddy countenance. At last he said "Is this, madam, the nephew who, you told me a little ago, is not addicted to fighting?" "Yes," answered the old lady faintly, and covering her eyes with her hands, "that is Martin."
Martin heard the narrative in silence, and when it was finished he sat a few minutes gazing vacantly before him, like one in a dream. Then starting up suddenly, he wrung Mr Jollyboy's hand, "Good-bye, my dear friend; good-bye. I shall go to Liverpool. We shall meet again." "Stay, Martin, stay "
Yes, seven p.m. was Martin's great hour, and Aunt Dorothy's great hour, and old Mr Jollyboy's great hour, and Barney's too; for each knew that the labours of the day were done, and that the front door was locked for the night, and that a great talk was brewing.
Martin heard the narrative in silence, and when it was finished he sat a few minutes gazing vacantly before him, like one in a dream. Then starting up suddenly, he wrung Mr. Jollyboy's hand, "Good-bye, my dear friend; good-bye. I shall go to Liverpool. We shall meet again." "Stay, Martin, stay "
For a few seconds there was a dead silence, while an expression of puzzled disappointment passed over Mr. Jollyboy's ruddy countenance. At last he said, "Is this, madam, the nephew who, you told me a little ago, is not addicted to fighting?" "Yes," answered the old lady faintly, and covering her eyes with her hands, "that is Martin."
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