"Ah! Terry O'Flaherty!" vociferated Jonathan, in a tone that betrayed hot the slightest discomposure. It's mighty lonesome down there for a man bred to cities. I thought one had only to take it by the throat. Supper was quickly served; the oldest bottle of wine was brought from the cellar; the strongest barrel of ale was tapped; but not one of the party could eat or drink—their hearts were too full. Ever since the young police officer had arrived on her doorstep the clock had started ticking faster. Much too formal for a cosy chat between old friends.
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