The boy went out and Mr. Henchy began to rub his hands cheerfully, saying:
"Ah, well, he's not so bad after all. He's as good as his word, anyhow."
"There's no tumblers," said the old man.
"O, don't let that trouble you. Jack," said Mr. Henchy. "Many's the good man before now drank out of the bottle."
"Anyway, it's better than nothing," said Mr. O'Connor.
"He's not a bad sort," said Mr. Henchy, "only Fanning has such a loan of him. He means well, you know, in his own tinpot way."
The boy came back with the corkscrew. The old man opened three bottles and was handing back the corkscrew when Mr. Henchy said to the boy, "Would you like a drink, boy?"
"If you please, sir," said the boy. The old man opened another bottle grudgingly, and handed it to the boy.
"What age are you?" he asked.
"Seventeen," said the boy. As the old man said nothing further, the boy took the bottle, said: "Here's my best respects, sir, to Mr. Henchy," drank the contents, put the bottle back on the table and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. Then he took up the corkscrew and went out of the door sideways, muttering some form of salutation.
"That's the way it begins," said the old man.
