u Irish to keep clear of all
Germans. Go to bed!"

VI

DULCIE

One warm afternoon late in spring, Dulcie Soane, returning from school
to Dragon Court, found her father behind the desk, as usual, awaiting
his daughter's advent, to release him from duty.

A tall, bony man with hectic and sunken cheeks and only a single eye
was standing by the desk, earnestly engaged in whispered conversation
with her father.

He drew aside instantly as Dulcie came up and laid her school books on
the desk. Soane, already redolent of Grogan's whiskey, pushed back his
chair and got to his feet.

"G'wan in f'r a bite an' a sup," he said to his daughter, "while I
talk to the gintleman."

So Dulcie went slowly into the superintendent's dingy quarters for her
mid-day meal, which was dinner; and between her and a sloppy
scrub-woman who cooked for them, she managed to warm up and eat what
Soane had left for her from his own meal.

When she returned to the desk in the hall, the one-eyed man had gone.
Soane sat on the chair behind the desk, his face over-red and shiny,
his heels drumming the devil's tattoo on the tessellated pavement.

"I'll be at Grogan's," he said, as Dulcie seated herself in the
ancient leather chair behind the desk telephone, and began to sort the
pile of mail which the postman evidently had just delivered.

"Very well," she murmured absently, turning around and beginning
to distribute the letters and parcels in the various numbered
compartments behind her. Soane slid off his chair to his feet and
straightened up, stretching and yawning.

"Av anny wan tilliphones to Misther Barres," he said, "listen in."

"What!"

"Listen in, I'm tellin' you. And if it's a lady, ask her name first,
and then listen in. And if she says her name is Quellen or Dunois,
mind what she says to Misther Barres."

"Why?" enquired Dulcie, astonished.

"Becuz I'm tellin' ye!"

"I shall not do that," said the girl, flushing up.

"Ah, bother! Sure, there's no harm in it, Dulcie! Would I be askin' ye
to do wrong, asthore? Me who is your own blood and kin? Listen then:
'Tis a woman what do be botherin' the poor young gentleman, an' I'll
not have him f'r to be put upon. Listen, m'acushla, and if airy a lady
tilliphones, or if she comes futtherin' an' muttherin' around here,
call me at Grogan's and I'll be soon dishposen' av the likes av her."

"Has she ever been here--this lady?" asked the girl, uncertain and
painfully perplexed.