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To pay a compliment perfectly one must, I think, have at least a few drops of Irish blood in one's veins. As a rule, the happy-go-lucky people of Ireland can bring themselves to believe thoroughly, and without hypocrisy, in almost anything for the time being,—can fling themselves heart and soul into their flatteries, and come out of them again as victors. And what other nation is capable of this? To make sweet phrases is one thing; to look as if you felt or meant them is quite another. "Thank you, darling," replies he, meekly. Mona is, however, by no means disconcerted; she lifts her calm eyes to Nolly's, and answers him without even a blush..
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Conrad
"Thief!" interrupts Rodney, repeating the vile word again, as though deaf to everything but this degrading accusation. Then there is a faint pause, and then—— "Oh, Geoffrey, wasn't it well you went to Ireland and met Mona? Because if you had stayed on here last autumn we might have been induced to marry each other, and then what would have become of poor Jack?" Fox Eye had two wives, and their father and mother and all their near relations were dead. All Fox Eye's relations had died. So it happened that these poor widows had no one to help them—no one to take vengeance for the killing of their husband. "Was it you?" asks he, raising himself on his elbow to regard her earnestly, though very loath to quit the spot where late he has been tenant. "You? Oh, Mona!".
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