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Updated: May 28, 2025
"He was a dealer, miss," went on Patsey; "a Dublin fella'. Sixty-three sovereigns I asked him, and he offered me fifty-five, and a man that was there said we should shplit the differ, and in the latther end he gave me the sixty pounds. He wasn't very stiff at all. I'm thinking he wasn't buying for himself." The man who had noticed Fanny Fitz's eyes moved away unostentatiously.
There, Mister Fitzgibbon was busied with the spare, red-shirted man, he of the intelligent face and gashed skull, the man I had found so mysteriously occupying the bunk Newman had gone to bed in, and who, Lynch declared, was neither sailor, nor bum. There on the poop, we could not overhear the small man's words for Mister Fitz's shrill cursing, but he seemed to be expostulating with the mate.
Perhaps it was the vision of early summer that the words called up; perhaps it was the smile, half-seen in the semi-dark, that curved her provoking lips; perhaps it was compunction for his share in the tragedy of the Connemara mare; but possibly without any of these explanations Rupert would have done as he did, which was to place his hand on Fanny Fitz's as it lay on the bench beside him.
"Look here, boys," said Tom Carver, "what do you say to mortifying Fitz's pride?" "Have you got a plan in view, Tom? If so, out with it." "Yes: you know the pedler that comes into town about once a month to buy up rags, and sell his tinwares." "I have seen him. Well, what of him?" "He is coming early next week.
"When are the accounts under this system generally paid, Colonel," asked Fitz. With the exception of a slight tremor around the corners of his mouth Fitz's face expressed nothing but the idlest interest. "I have never inquired, suh, and would not hurt the gentleman's feelin's by doin' so for the world," he replied with dignity. "I presume, when the book is full."
It was, perhaps unworthy on Fanny Fitz's part to conceal the painful fact that it was that distinguished fisherman, Mr. Rupert Gunning, who had landed her and the Connemara filly. Freddy Alexander, however, heard the story in its integrity, and commented on it with his usual candour.
Well, can you get away now?" Luke shook his head. "No," he answered almost ungraciously, "I can't leave the ship." "What! Not to come and look over the Kittiwake?" Fitz's face fell visibly. He did not seem to be able to realise that any one should be equal to relinquishing without a murmur the opportunity of looking over the Kittiwake. "No, I am afraid not. We have our discipline too, you know.
"This poor honest man," said the friend, returning to the charge, "says he couldn't part her without he'd get twenty-eight pounds for her; and, thank God, it's little your ladyship would think of giving that!" Fanny Fitz's face fell. "Twenty-eight pounds!" she echoed. "Oh, that's ridiculous!" The friend turned to the owner, and, with a majestic wave of the hand, signalled to him to retire.
Timmins was always a tuft-hunter," said Rowdy, who had been at college with the barrister, and who, for his own part, has no more objection to a lord than you or I have; and adding, "Hang him, what business has HE to be giving parties?" allowed Mrs. Rowdy, nevertheless, to accept Rosa's invitation. "When I go to business to-morrow, I will just have a look at Mr. Fitz's account," Mr.
But when he did, it was jest a flash of light. Both them guns went off, but Mac's bullet hit Fitz's hand and knocked the gun out of it so of course his shot went wild. But Fitz could see his own blood, and you know what that does to the Scotch-Irish? Makes some people quit cold to see their own blood.
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