If you can't succeed, I'm sure Billy and I have no chance." "What have you written?
Let us see," said Considine, drawing the paper towards him, and holding it to the light.

"Why, what the devil is all this?
You have made him 'drop down dead after dinner of a lingering illness brought on by the debate of yesterday.'" "Oh, impossible!" "Well, read it yourself; there it is.

And, as if to make the thing less credible, you talk of his 'Bill for the Better Recovery of Small Debts.' I'm sure, O'Malley, your last moments were not employed in that manner." "Come, now," said Sir Harry, "I'll set all to rights with a postscript.
'Any one who questions the above statement is politely requested to call on Mr.Considine, 16 Kildare Street, who will feel happy to afford him every satisfaction upon Mr.O'Malley's decease, or upon miscellaneous matters." "Worse and worse," said O'Malley.

"Killing another man will never persuade the world that I'm dead." "But we'll wake you, and have a glorious funeral." "And if any man doubt the statement, I'll call him out," said the Count.
"Or, better still," said Sir Harry, "O'Malley has his action at law for defamation." "I see I'll never get down to Galway at this rate," said O'Malley; "and as the new election takes place on Tuesday week, time presses.

There are more writs flying after me this instant than for all the government boroughs." "And there will be fewer returns, I fear," said Sir Harry.
"Who is the chief creditor ?" asked the Count.
"Old Stapleton, the attorney in Fleet Street, has most of the mortgages." "Nothing to be done with him in this way ?" said Considine, balancing the corkscrew like a hair trigger.
"No chance of it." "May be," said Sir Harry, "he might come to terms if I were to call and say, 'You are anxious to close accounts, as your death has just taken place.' You know what I mean." "I fear so should he, were you to say so.