Rhea spun round and sank her teeth into Lucy’s arm. We felt like thieves. Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books. "Och! he's a broth of a boy!" "Why, I thought he'd broken your head, Terry?" "Phooh! that's nothing? A piece o' plaster'll set all to rights; and Terry O'Flaherty's not the boy to care for the stroke of a supple-jack. "What motive have you for concealment?" he demanded. “But I’m afraid you are going to be in a hopeless minority here as regards me. He has had brain fever since, and, as you say, I am more like what you were then than you yourself are now. "I haven't a word to say, Ah Cum, not a word. One of your aunts died, I believe, and the other removed to London. But such was the violence of his grief,—such the compunction he exhibited, that all but one looked on with an eye of compassion.
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