t it your business?" asked Mrs. Kearney. "Didn't you yourself
bring her the contract? Anyway, if it's not your business it's my
business and I mean to see to it."

"You'd better speak to Mr. Fitzpatrick," said Mr. Holohan distantly.

"I don't know anything about Mr. Fitzpatrick," repeated Mrs. Kearney. "I
have my contract, and I intend to see that it is carried out."

When she came back to the dressing-room her cheeks were slightly
suffused. The room was lively. Two men in outdoor dress had taken
possession of the fireplace and were chatting familiarly with Miss Healy
and the baritone. They were the Freeman man and Mr. O'Madden Burke. The
Freeman man had come in to say that he could not wait for the concert as
he had to report the lecture which an American priest was giving in
the Mansion House. He said they were to leave the report for him at the
Freeman office and he would see that it went in. He was a grey-haired
man, with a plausible voice and careful manners. He held an extinguished
cigar in his hand and the aroma of cigar smoke floated near him. He had
not intended to stay a moment because concerts and artistes bored him
considerably but he remained leaning against the mantelpiece. Miss
Healy stood in front of him, talking and laughing. He was old enough to
suspect one reason for her politeness but young enough in spirit to
turn the moment to account. The warmth, fragrance and colour of her body
appealed to his senses. He was pleasantly conscious that the bosom which
he saw rise and fall slowly beneath him rose and fell at that moment
for him, that the laughter and fragrance and wilful glances were his
tribute. When he could stay no longer he took leave of her regretfully.

"O'Madden Burke will write the notice," he explained to Mr. Holohan,
"and I'll see it in."

"Thank you very much, Mr. Hendrick," said Mr. Holohan, "you'll see it
in, I know. Now, won't you have a little something before you go?"

"I don't mind," said Mr. Hendrick.

The two men went along some tortuous passages and up a dark staircase
and came to a secluded room where one of the stewards was uncorking
bottles for a few gentlemen. One of these gentlemen was Mr. O'Madden
Burke, who had found out the room by instinct. He was a suave, elderly
man who balanced his imposing body, when at rest, upon a large silk
umbrella. His magniloquent western name was the moral umbrella upon
which he balanced the fine problem of his finances. He was widely
r