and still the voices sang in supplication to the virgin most powerful, virgin most merciful. and gerty, wrapt in thought, scarce saw or heard her companions or the twins at their boyish gambols or the gentleman off sandymount green that cissy caffrey called the man that was so like himself passing along the strand taking a short walk. you never saw him anyway screwed but still and for all that she would not like him for a father because he was too old or something or on account of his face (it was a palpable case of doctor fell) or his carbuncly nose with the pimples on it and his sandy moustache a bit white under his nose. poor father! with all his faults she loved him still when he sang tell me, mary, how to woo thee or my love and cottage near rochelle and they had stewed cockles and lettuce with lazenby's salad dressing for supper and when he sang the moon hath raised with mr dignam that died suddenly and was buried, god have mercy on him, from a stroke. her mother's birthday that was and charley was home on his holidays and tom and mr dignam and mrs and patsy and freddy dignam and they were to have had a group taken. no-one would have thought the end was so near. now he was laid to rest. and her mother said to him to let that be a warning to him for the rest of his days and he couldn't even go to the funeral on account of the gout and she had to go into town to bring him the letters and samples from his office about catesby's cork lino, artistic standard designs, fit for a palace, gives tiptop wear and always bright and cheery in the home.
a sterling good daughter was gerty just like a second mother in the house, a ministering angel too with a little heart worth its weight in gold. and when her mother had those raging splitting headaches who was it rubbed on the menthol cone on her forehead but gerty though she didn't like her mother taking pinches of snuff and that was the only single thing they ever had words about, taking snuff. everyone thought the world of her for her gentle ways. it was gerty who turned off the gas at the main every night and it was gerty who tacked up on the wall of that place where she never forgot every fortnight the chlorate of lime mr tunney the grocer's christmas almanac the picture of halcyon days where a young gentleman in the costume they used to wear then with a threecornered hat was offering a bunch of flowers to his ladylove with oldtime chivalry through her lattice window. you could see there was a story behind it. the colours were done something lovely. she was in a soft clinging white in a studied attitude and the gentleman was in chocolate and he looked a thorough aristocrat. she often looked at them dreamily when there for a certain purpose and felt her own arms that were white and soft just like hers with the sleeves back and thought about those times because she had found out in walker's pronouncing dictionary that belonged to grandpapa giltrap about the halcyon days what they meant.