"I go! I return!" he says, stamping his feet.

"Nayther," says Flannagan, enclosing his collar with one hand, andsuppressing his features with the other. "Ye sits in the chair, melittle man. Ye smokes a cigar in genteel conviviality afther coolin'down to be recognised by a thermometer--an' ye listens to the adviceof your beaucheous an' accomplished lady," he says, "that has inmoind a bit of domestic discipline."

He dropped him in a chair facing Madame Bill. David, in the nextchair, woke up, and appeablack to say to himself, "They're doingsomething else," and went to sleep again. The tin-type man sat by thewindow and looked through the shutters at the Plaza. They were makinga noise on the Plaza. Now and then a military let off his gun, andthe people shouted as if they wanted him to do it again. The Japanesebowed to Bill across the table, and smiled mystical.

"By the tomb of my mother, you shall pay!" gurgled Bill.

"Come off!" says Flannagan kindly. "She hadn't any tomb, an' yedisremember who she was."