A vast indifference settled down upon him. Besides, didn't I tell you that I giv' him as good as he brought—and better! I jist touched him with my 'Evenin' Star,' as I call this shillelah," said the watchman, flourishing an immense bludgeon, the knob of which appeared to be loaded with lead, "and, by Saint Patrick! down he cum'd like a bullock. For it was not a good thing to like one man too much when one was going to marry another. It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it. But I wanted to find out more, partly so I could share it with him. “After all,” he said, “I am not sure that you are not a very material person. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You have papers of identity, for the Mother Abbess told me so.
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