Gypo turned around and looked at the terrified face of the barmaid. As he looked at her beautiful face and her pretty soft hair that shimmered in the artificial light, his head swam and his eyes went watery. His anger left his body immediately so that it seemed to empty and collapse. It had been rigid and like a tree. Now it became loose and jointless. He stood with stooping head and wondering eyes, looking at the barmaid. The barmaid, seeing the change she had effected by her presence in the unruly giant, grew conceited. She smiled in a superior way and dabbed at her hair. She looked around at the others with an air of: “D’ye all see that now?” Then Gallagher came up to the aperture jauntily, took her two hands in his and looked enticingly into her eyes. Her eyes winced for a moment as if she had become suddenly afraid. Then she smiled softly, wearily, like a woman passionately in love. Gallagher bent down his head and whispered something in her ear. She burst into a loud laugh. Gallagher smiled, listening to her. Then he suddenly sighed and rapped the counter curtly. “Four glasses of Jameson’s quickly,” he said in a low sharp cold voice. The barmaid stopped laughing as suddenly as if she had been stricken by a pain. She pulled down the shutter, lisping as she did so: “Yes Dan.” Gallagher came back to Gypo and put his hand again on Gypo’s shoulder. Gypo had his two hands now in his trousers pockets. After his unsuccessful outburst he felt tired. He wanted to go away somewhere and lie down and sleep for days and days. His mind was in a maze. He was very tired. As he looked at Gallagher he even felt a longing to confide his secret to him. Gallagher’s eyes were so devilishly attractive. They seemed to draw things out of Gypo towards themselves. They would be able to form a plan and . . . Gypo had uttered one syllable of Gallagher’s name before he realized the real identity of the man and the consequences of a confession to him. The name died on his lips. Gallagher smiled. “Gypo, old boy,” he said in a friendly tone, “ye had better forget all that’s past. We’ve got something on hand that’s as much your business as ours. So we can act together on it. That’s why I sent Bartly Mulholland into McPhillip’s house to look for ye. A pal of yours has been done in by the police. D’ye hear? It looks like an informer’s job. We have to get that informer. It’s really no business of the Organization because Frank had ceased to be a member. He was only an ordinary civilian criminal as far as we are concerned. But an informer is an informer. He’s got to be wiped out like the first sign of a plague as soon as he’s spotted. He’s a common enemy. He’s got to be got, Gypo. And it’s up to you to give us a hand in tracking the traitor that sent your pal to his death. Because . . .”