bottle of port. "Give me the bottle, Burke!"

He took it from the old man's hands, and poured some wine into
Clodagh's glass; and as he leant forward, he suddenly saw by the light
of the candles that her eyes were wide and black, her face very white.

"Clo, you're not feeling ill?" he asked, in quick concern.

Clodagh put her hand to her face with a startled gesture.

"No! Do I look ill? It's the storm. The storm has got on my nerves. We
develop nerves in London, you know!" Again she attempted to laugh.

Once more Asshlin accepted her explanation, as something he had no
authority to question.

"I want you to talk, Larry!" she added hurriedly. "I want you to talk.
Say anything! Take me out of myself!"

She raised her glass to her lips and drank some of the wine. It brought
a faint tinge of colour to her cheeks, but only increased the bright
darkness of her eyes.

While Asshlin consumed his dinner, she sat very upright in her chair,
sipping her wine from time to time or breaking small mouthfuls from her
bread.

At last, having hovered anxiously about her, Burke made bold to speak
his thoughts.

"Is it the way the chicken isn't nice, ma'am?" he ventured.

She started, as she had started each time she had been directly
addressed.

"No, Burke! Oh no!" she said hastily. "The chicken is very nice. It's
only that the storm has--has given me a headache."

Burke shook his head sympathetically, as a sudden gale swept round the
house.

"'Tis lookin' for a bad night, sure enough!" he said, as he passed
round the table with the next course.

When the pudding had been served and partaken of by Asshlin, Clodagh at
last pushed back her chair, and with a curiously unstrung movement
walked across the room to the fireplace.

"Larry," she said suddenly, "will you play cards with me when Burke
takes the things away?"

Asshlin looked up with interest.

"By Jove!" he said, "what a good idea!"

When Burke reappeared, solemnly carrying some cheese, Clodagh turned to
him quickly.

"Is there a pack of cards in the house, Tim?" she asked.

He glanced at her white face and upright figure, but his expression
betrayed nothing.

"I do be thinkin' there's a deck some place, if I could lay me mind on
it."

Asshlin leant across the table.

"There's a pack in the drawer of the side-board."

Burke crossed the room, but not over-eagerly; and, opening the drawer,
produced the cards.

"'Tis the deck poor Misther Dinis got f