Mrs. Farron watched him almost breathlessly. She was a little frightened,
but the sensation was pleasurable. He was, she knew, the finest specimen
of the human animal that she had ever seen.

"What do I want?" he said at length in a deep, rich voice, shot here and
there with strange nasal tones, and here and there with the remains of a
brogue. "Well, I want that you should stop persecuting those poor kids."

"I persecuting them? Don't be absurd, Marty," answered Mrs. Wayne.

"Persecuting them; what else?" retorted Marty, fiercely. "What else is
it? They wanting to get married, and you determined to send the boy up
the river."

"I don't think we'll go over that again. I have a lady here on business."

"Oh, please don't mind me," said Mrs. Farron, settling back, and
wriggling her hands contentedly into her muff. She rather expected the
frivolous courage of her tone to draw the ire of Burke's glance upon her,
but it did not.

"Cruel is what I call it," he went on. "She wants it, and he wants it,
and her family wants it, and only you and the judge that you put up to
opposing--"

"Her family do not want it. Her brother--"

"Her brother agrees with me. I was talking to him yesterday."