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bollocks! Johnny the Robin’s daughter out from Gort Ribbuck! Where did she say she wanted to go, Master … ? Her tricks will get her yet! Don’t take a gnat fart’s notice of her, I’m telling you. If you knew her like I do you’d keep your trap firmly shut. I’ve been dealing with herself and her daughter for the last sixteen years. You shouldn’t bother your arse wasting your time with Toejam Nora. She was hardly a day at school, and she wouldn’t know the difference between the ABC and a plague of fleas in her armpit …
    â€”Who’s this? Who are you … ? Caitriona Paudeen. I don’t believe you’re here at last … Well, however long it takes, this is where you end up … Welcome anyway, Caitriona, you’re welcome … I’m afraid, Caitriona, that you are … How will I put it … You are a bit hard on Toejam No— … Nora Johnny … She has come on a bomb since you used to be … What’s that the way you put it … That’s it … dealing with her … We find it hard to measure time, but if I get you correctly, she’s three years here already under the positive influence of culture … But listen here Caitriona … Do you remember the letter I wrote for you to your sister Baba in America … ’Twas the last one I wrote … The day after that, my last sickness hit me … Is that will still in dispute … ?
    â€”I got many letters from Baba since you were writing them forme, Master. But she never said either “yea” or “nay” about the money. Yes, we got an answer from her about that letter, alright. That was the last time she mentioned the will: “I haven’t completed my will yet,” she said. “I hope I do not pass away suddenly or by happenstance, as you have suggested in your letter. Do not be concerned in this matter. I’ll execute my will in due course, when I know what is required of me.” I know what I told her when I caught up with her. “I’m sure the schoolmaster wrote that for you. No one of us ever spoke like that.”
    The Young Master—he succeeded you—he writes the letters for us now. But I’m afraid that the priest writes for Nell. That hag can pull the wool over his eyes with her chickens and knitted socks and her twisted tricks. She is a dab hand it, Master. I thought I’d live another few years yet and see her buried, the maggot … !
    You did your best for me anyway, Master, about the will. You could handle the pen. I often saw you writing a letter, and do you know what I thought? I thought that you could knit words together just as well as I could put a stitch in a stocking … “May God have mercy on the Old Master,” I’d say to myself. “He would always do you a good turn. If God allowed him to live, he’d have got the money for me …”
    I’d say it won’t be long now until the Mistress—that is to say, your good wife, Master—it won’t be long until she gets her act together. No doubt about it. She’s a fine good-looking young thing yet … Oh, I’m very sorry Master! Don’t take a bit of notice of anything I say. I’m often romancing like that to myself, but sure, no one can help who they are themselves … I know, Master, I shouldn’t have told you at all. You’ll be worried about it. And I thought you’d be absolutely thrilled to hear that the Mistress was getting her act together …
    Ah, come on, don’t blame me, Master … I’m not a gossip … I can’t tell you who the man is … Ah, please, Master, don’t push me … If I thought it would really make you so cranky I wouldn’t have said as much as a word …
    She swore blind that she wouldn’t marry another man, did she, Master? Oh, come on! … Did you never hear it said that married women are the best …