“I was thinking, my lady,” said Jimmy, “that maybe you’d be wanting a bit of supper. What would you say now to a chop, or a couple of rashers and some eggs? I could have them got for you in a minute.” “I want Mr. Goddard, the police officer,” said Miss Blow, who stood beside the post-office counter. “Wouldn’t it be better for you now,” said Jimmy, turning to her, “to be eating your supper quietly instead of rampaging about the town frightening the wits out of a poor man that’s doing his best for you? Come now, sure I’m old enough to be your father, and I know what’s good for you. It’s moidered you are with the trouble that’s on you, and there isn’t one in the place but is sorry for you and for all the rest of the ladies this night. But what’s the good of making yourselves sick over it, and tormenting the officer? If they’re gone, they’re gone, and all the talking in the world won’t bring them back to you.” “Man----” said Miss Blow. “Look at poor Susan Devlin,” said Jimmy, “she’s lost a husband as well as the rest of you, and barring that she might be crying an odd time when she’d be thinking of him, she’s as quiet as a lamb. Why can’t you behave yourselves like her? I’m not setting up to teach ladies like yourselves what ought to be and what ought not, but I’d say myself that the men that would run away from yez, from the like of yez”--he spoke with a smile that was meant to flatter--“isn’t worth looking after.” “Do you dare to suggest----” said Miss Farquharson. “It’s not the first time that suggestion has been made,” said Miss Blow. “It’s part of the scandalous conspiracy in which every man, woman and child in this place is involved.” “If you won’t take your supper when it’s offered you,” said Jimmy, “maybe you’ll sit inside in the hotel. You’re interrupting the business of the shop standing where you are, let alone preventing the public from buying the stamps they have a right to buy to put on their letters.”