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216 asked him for a knife, and he brought him a plate of bacon. It was of that the Maid of the Liss was thinking when she said she "had quite finished," while she held out her plate for more meat. It was of that Nora of the Causeway was thinking, when someone asked her if he should pour her out a glass of wine, and she said "How should I know?" so that everybody burst out laughing. Probably it was also of that that even Short Mary was thinking, when she asked the owner of the colt "how much he got for his horse on the fair-day."

There was one person in the company, however, to whom that thought never occurred in any way, good, bad, or indifferent, during the night. That person was Cormac himself. He had no idea that such a thought was in the mind of anyone present.

Beggars and cripples and tramps from every side of the country were collected out on the road and all round the house, and of course it was a long time before people were able to attend to them, or give them anything to eat and drink. They also had that same thought in their minds. They kept it there until the delay went to great length, and their hunger, and their thirst for the wine, increased. Then their patience gave way, and they began to discuss the point, and good hands they were at doing it. But later on, when they found that the food and the drink were good and strong and substantial and fine-flavoured, they did not pretend to have ever mentioned any such thing—the rascals!

It was getting on into the night. The company within had eaten and drunk enough, and so had those of the broken legs and the back-biting tongues outside. The priest looked at Dermot. Dermot