182 Dubliners
Mrs. Kernan entered the room and, placing a tray on the
table, said:
‘Help yourselves, gentlemen.’
Mr. Power stood up to officiate, offering her his chair.
She declined it, saying she was ironing downstairs, and, af-
ter having exchanged a nod with Mr. Cunningham behind
Mr. Power’s back, prepared to leave the room. Her husband
called out to her:
‘And have you nothing for me, duckie?’
‘O, you! The back of my hand to you!’ said Mrs. Kernan
ta r t ly.
Her husband called after her:
‘Nothing for poor little hubby!’
He assumed such a comical face and voice that the dis-
tribution of the bottles of stout took place amid general
merriment.
The gentlemen drank from their glasses, set the glass-
es again on the table and paused. Then Mr. Cunningham
turned towards Mr. Power and said casually:
‘On Thursday night, you said, Jack ‘
‘Thursday, yes,’ said Mr. Power.
‘Righto!’ said Mr. Cunningham promptly.
‘We can meet in M’Auley’s,’ said Mr. M’Coy. ‘That’ll be
the most convenient place.’
‘But we mustn’t be late,’ said Mr. Power earnestly, ‘be-
cause it is sure to be crammed to the doors.’
‘We can meet at half-seven,’ said Mr. M’Coy.
‘Righto!’ said Mr. Cunningham.
‘Half-seven at M’Auley’s be it!’