The great city roared at her. Her head swum a little. An idler or two
took up a grinning stand: the thing looked like a cab-fare dispute....
What was she wanting to pay? ... Well, as little as possible. "I have
never been in London before, and I don't know anybody. My friend here
has gone. I have just arrived from Ireland." She began to cry.

He from his box in a moment. "From Ireland!"

Why, he was from Ireland! ... Not likely she was from Connemara? ...
She was? ... From Kinsloe? ... Why, he knew it well; he was from
Ballydag!

He rolled his tongue around other names of the district; she knew them
all; could almost have laughed at the silly fellow's delight.

Why, the honour it would be if she would come and let his missus make
her up a bed! "Don't ye cry, missie. Don't ye take on like that. It's
all right ye are now." He put a huge, roughly great-coated arm about
her--squeezed her, she believed; helped her into the cab.



VII.

Missus in the clean little rooms over the rattling mews was no less
delighted. From Kinsloe? Why, missie saw that canary?--that was a
present from Betty Murphy in Kinsloe, not three months before!

The canary, aroused by the attention paid it, trilled upward in a
mounting ecstasy of shrillness that went up and up and up through her