The eyes of both
men were fixed on her.
"I feel," said Meldon at last, "like the village blacksmith."
"There are four in Ballymoy," said the Major. "Reilly is the man who
works for me. If you feel like him, I'm sorry for you. He's generally
drunk at this hour."
"I refer," said Meldon, "to Longfellow's village blacksmith. You're
not a highly-educated man, I know, but I thought you'd have heard of
him.
"'The muscles of his brawny arms
Were strong as iron bands.'
It's a poem which most people learn while at school. I am sometimes
tempted to think that you never were at school."
"I don't see, J. J., that your muscles are anything particular to
swagger about."
"I wasn't referring to my muscles," said Meldon. "The resemblance I
speak of lies in the fact that I've 'earned my night's repose.' The
village blacksmith felt that he deserved his after listening to his
daughter singing in the local church choir. I've undergone an even
severer nerve strain. I've practically arranged the marriage between
Simpkins and the murderess."
"I wish very much that I knew exactly what you've been doing all day,
J. J. I always feel nervous when you go out alone.
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