Content
He leaned his elbows on the table and shut and opened the flaps of his ears.
His father was a marshal now: higher than a magistrate.
He knew that his father had paid a guinea for it in Dunn's of D'Olier Street and that the man had prodded it often at the breastbone to show how good it was: and he remembered the man's voice when he had said:
--O, by God, he cried, I forgot little old Paul Cullen!
