talking of fish, thinking of fish, without haste, and with a good deal
of rest. There was also Hallinan's Hotel, that was very far from being
a mere country hotel. The stately bow-windows of its coffee-room have
already been mentioned, but its wide verandah must not be forgotten,
stone-paven, glass-roofed, umbrageous with tropic vegetation, beneath
whose shade, on the sunny days that are enjoyed by the lesser world of
men, sad anglers, in ancient tweed suits, lolled, broken-heartedly, in
basket-chairs. And, finally, on the town's highest level, was The
Mall, reserved, dignified, with a double row of great beech-trees, and
behind them, on both sides of the wide roadway, the reserved and
dignified houses of the magnates of Cluhir. Eminent in both these
qualities was No. 6; almost too much so, Mrs. Mangan thought
sometimes. On a wet day she would say, it would be as good for you to
be in the Back of Beyond itself, as here, where you might be
flattening your nose all day and not see as much as a bike going by.

Dr. Mangan, however, fully recognised the value of this seclusion. His
surgery was at the back of the house, and its unbroken quiet was
grateful to a man who had much to do, and plenty to think of. He was
seated in it, one mild February evening, some months after the
election of Dr. Aherne. It had been market-day in Cluhir; patients had
been many, and fees satisfactory. The Doctor reclined in front of a
good turf and wood fire, and smoked a mellow pipe, and reviewed the
run of events. Danny Aherne had been in, to speak to him about a case,
that afternoon, and Dr. Mangan's thoughts ran back to that little
affair of the Knock Ceoil Dispensary, and of Major Talbot-Lowry's part
in the matter. Danny had just nipped in before the Local Government
Bill took the power away from the old Dispensary Committees. Dam' luck
for Danny. The Major had been useful enough. It hadn't been his vote,
so much as his influence, that had got the boy the job. The affair, as