The sum of his episodic rambling on Brian's tongue was appalling.

He was willing to concede that his imagination was wayward and romantic.

But why in the name of Heaven must a man--and an Irishman--justify the indiscretions of his wit?
Well, the lad had always had an unnatural trend for fact.

Kenny remembered with resentment the Irish fairies that even in his childhood Brian had been unable to accept, excellent fairies with feet so big that in time of storm they stood on their heads and used them for umbrellas! Staggered by Brian's inflexible air of resolution, Kenny, his fingers clenched in his hair, began another circle.

He reverted to his grievance.