Again, when the scene changed to Dublin,
'glass of whiskey,' 'public-house,' and such things were in English.
When the shower was over he showed me a curious cave hidden among
the cliffs, a short distance from the sea. On our way back he asked
me the three questions I am met with on every side--whether I am a
rich man, whether I am married, and whether I have ever seen a
poorer place than these islands.
When he heard that I was not married he urged me to come back in the
summer so that he might take me over in a curagh to the Spa in
County Glare, where there is 'spree mor agus go leor ladies' ('a big
spree and plenty of ladies').
Something about the man repelled me while I was with him, and though
I was cordial and liberal he seemed to feel that I abhorred him. We
arranged to meet again in the evening, but when I dragged myself
with an inexplicable loathing to the place of meeting, there was no
trace of him.
It is characteristic that this man, who is probably a drunkard and
shebeener and certainly in penury, refused the chance of a shilling
because he felt that I did not like him. He had a curiously mixed
expression of hardness and melancholy. Probably his character has
given him a bad reputation on the island, and he lives here with the
restlessness of a man who has no sympathy with his companions.
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