en anxious about me.

AUNT JUDY. Deedn we have, Mr Broadbent. It's a mercy you weren't
killed.

DORAN. Kilt! It's a mercy dheres two bones of you left houldin
together. How dijjescape at all at all? Well, I never thought I'd
be so glad to see you safe and sound again. Not a man in the town
would say less [murmurs of kindly assent]. Won't you come down to
Doolan's and have a dhrop o brandy to take the shock off?

BROADBENT. You're all really too kind; but the shock has quite
passed off.

DORAN [jovially]. Never mind. Come along all the same and tell us
about it over a frenly glass.

BROADBENT. May I say how deeply I feel the kindness with which I
have been overwhelmed since my accident? I can truthfully declare
that I am glad it happened, because it has brought out the
kindness and sympathy of the Irish character to an extent I had
no conception of.

SEVERAL {Oh, sure you're welcome!
PRESENT. {Sure it's only natural.
{Sure you might have been kilt.

A young man, on the point of bursting, hurries out. Barney puts
an iron constraint on his features.

BROADBENT. All I can say is that I wish I could drink the health
of everyone of you.

DORAN. Dhen come an do it.

BROADBENT [very solemnly]. No: I am a teetotaller.

AUNT JUDY [incredulously]. Arra since when?

BROADBENT. Since this morning, Miss Doyle. I have had a lesson
[he looks at Nora significantly] that I shall not forget. It may
be that total abstinence has already saved my life; for I was
astonished at the steadiness of my nerves when death stared me in
the face today. So I will ask you to excuse me. [He collects
himself for a speech]. Gentlemen: I hope the gravity of the peril
through which we have all passed--for I know that the danger to
the bystanders was as great as to the occupants of the car--will
prove an earnest of closer and more serious relations between us
in the future. We have had a somewhat agitating day: a valuable
and innocent animal has lost its life: a public building has been
wrecked: an aged and infirm lady has suffered an impact for which
I feel personally responsible, though my old friend Mr Laurence
Doyle unfortunately incurred the first effects of her very
natural resentment. I greatly regret the damage to Mr Patrick
Farrell's fingers; and I have of course taken care that he shall
not suffer pecuniarily by his mishap. [Murmurs of admiration at
his magnanimity, and A Voice "You're a gentleman, sir"]. I am
glad t