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said the doctor, "why can't you take that off of her?"
"I can, of course, and I will. But it won't be enough, nor near enough."
"Well, what's the good of talking? Let's have a drink, anyway."
"Delia," yelled Mr. Sweeny, "Delia Flanagan, get a quart of whiskey from the bar, and a couple of tumblers. Be quick about it now. When your old mother's washing the floors in the workhouse you'll have to be quicker at your work. I'll learn you to listen to me when I call."
