Specially when
Mrs. DeSussa threwed hints how t' cold weather would soon be ower an'
she was goin' to Munsooree Pahar an' we was goin' to Rawalpindi, an'
she would niver see Rip any more onless somebody she knowed on would
be kind tiv her.
Soa I tells Mulvaney an' Ortheris all t' taale thro', beginnin' to end.
''Tis larceny that wicked ould laady manes,' says t' Irishman, ' 'tis
felony she is sejuicin' ye into, my frind Learoyd, but I'll purtect
your innocince. I'll save ye from the wicked wiles av that wealthy
ould woman, an' I'll go wid ye this evenin' and spake to her the wurrds
av truth an' honesty. But Jock,' says he, waggin' his heead, ''twas
not like ye to kape all that good dhrink an' thim fine cigars to
yerself, while Orth'ris here an' me have been prowlin' round wid throats
as dry as lime-kilns, and nothin' to smoke but Canteen plug. 'Twas a
dhirty thrick to play on a comrade, for why should you, Learoyd, be
balancin' yourself on the butt av a satin chair, as if Terence Mulvaney
was not the aquil av anybody who thrades in jute!'
'Let alone me/ sticks in Orth'ris, 'but that's like life.
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