When the lancers were over Gabriel went away to a remote corner of the room where Freddy Malins’ mother was sitting.  She was a stout feeble old woman with white hair.  Her voice had a catch in it like her son’s and she stuttered slightly.  She had been told that Freddy had come and that he was nearly all right.  Gabriel asked her whether she had had a good crossing.  She lived with her married daughter in Glasgow and came to Dublin on a visit once a year.  She answered placidly that she had had a beautiful crossing and that the captain had been most attentive to her.  She spoke also of the beautiful house her daughter kept in Glasgow, and of all the friends they had there.  While her tongue rambled on Gabriel tried to banish from his mind all memory of the unpleasant incident with Miss Ivors.  Of course the girl or woman, or whatever she was, was an enthusiast but there was a time for all things.  Perhaps he ought not to have answered her like that.  But she had no right to call him a West Briton before people, even in joke.  She had tried to make him ridiculous before people, heckling him and staring at him with her rabbit’s eyes.

He saw his wife making her way towards him through the waltzing couples.  When she reached him she said into his ear: 

“Gabriel.  Aunt Kate wants to know won’t you carve the goose as usual.  Miss Daly will carve the ham and I’ll do the pudding.”

“All right,” said Gabriel.

“She’s sending in the younger ones first as soon as this waltz is over so that we’ll have the table to ourselves.”

“Were you dancing?” asked Gabriel.

“Of course I was.  Didn’t you see me?  What row had you with Molly Ivors?”

“No row.  Why?  Did she say so?”

“Something like that.  I’m trying to get that Mr. D’Arcy to sing.  He’s full of conceit, I think.”

“There was no row,” said Gabriel moodily, “only she wanted me to go for a trip to the west of Ireland and I said I wouldn’t.”

His wife clasped her hands excitedly and gave a little jump.

“O, do go, Gabriel,” she cried.  “I’d love to see Galway again.”

“You can go if you like,” said Gabriel coldly.

She looked at him for a moment, then turned to Mrs. Malins and said: 

“There’s a nice husband for you, Mrs. Malins.”

While she was threading her way back across the room Mrs. Malins, without adverting to the interruption, went on to tell Gabriel what beautiful places there were in Scotland and beautiful scenery.  Her son-in-law brought them every year to the lakes and they used to go fishing.  Her son-in-law was a splendid fisher.  One day he caught a beautiful big fish and the man in the hotel cooked it for their dinner.