Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: CHAPTER III MAURICE not? I was n't born in County Clare," the tenor retorted, as Denys seized his arm. "Maurice, art thou mad, then?" he said in rapid French. "Come into the house and hold thy tongue, idiot that thou art!" "All right," acquiesced the Hungarian patriot. "Come along, Dillon, and have a 'drink." "An' I med a shtep forward to accept his invitation," Mr. Dillon explained, some days later, to an enterprising reporter, "whin I see Mr. Alden's face under the gas-light. Well, you bet I did n't go. I says, 'Thankin' ye kindly, sor, but I can't lave me bate.' An' he says,—the dago, I mane,—'Nayther can I, worse luck! Good-night, Mr. Dillon.' " On their own steps, out of the policeman's hearing, Denys burst out, "In the name of common sense, why English?" Before Tolna could answer, the door was flung open by an agitated valet. "Ah, Monsieur Aldanne, how I am glad that you arrive. My monsieur, I could do nothing with him. He would stand himself in the snow—the melting snow, monsieur." "The snow melts—I don't," the guilty one retorted, as Francois rid him of fur coat and overshoes. "No, monsieur! But if monsieur's voice melts, and then monsieur's dollars?" "Then I will go valeting some other poor devil of a singer, and make his life a burden, as Fraois has taught me how." "The first thing," announced Denys, who, not being a celebrated singer, had taken off his own coat and overshoes—"the first thing on the program is to make you a hot Scotch." Half-way up the stairs the other turned with a flashing smile. "Oh, Denys, let it be the last, too!" His keeper sprang after him. Tolna cleared the rest of the flight four steps at a time, at the top suddenly letting out the full volume of his magnificent voice: '' Oh, let me the cannikin clink...