It was not until hours afterwards, when the vivid impression of Finola's face had faded from his recollection, when he had begun to forget the flash of her eyes, the poise of her figure, and the glow of her draperies, that his moral sense was able to reassert itself.
Then he knew that she had spoken wickedly.

It might be right for an Irishman to fight against England when he could.

It might be justifiable to seize the opportunity of England's embarrassment to make a bid for freedom by striking a blow at the Empire.

So far his conscience went willingly, but that treachery and murder could ever be anything but horrible he refused altogether to believe.
Another conversation in which he took part about this time helped Hyacinth still further to understand the position of his new friends.
Tim Halloran and he were smoking and chatting together over the fire when Maguire joined them.
'What's the matter with you ?' asked Halloran.

'You look as if you'd been at your mother's funeral.' 'You're not so far out in your guess,' said Maguire grimly.