"Jemima!" "You remember it, Brian?
You hated the sight of it.

'Tis the stiletto I stuck in a chunk of wax--" "Lord, yes! And you wrote the I.O.U.'s on anything from a playing card to the end of a shirt." "And never paid 'em until I had to," said Kenny with an unyielding air of self-contempt.

"Many the time you checked 'em off, Brian, and rebuked me as you should.

But that, by the Blessed Bell of Clare, is all behind me." He proudly exhibited the bizarre collection of scraps, initialed in token of debt and reinitialed in token of payment.
"Brian--I--I--" "Go ahead, old boy," said Brian, his eyes tender.

"I can see you've got a lot on your mind." "I paid 'em--every one!" "So I see." "And never again will you have to bookkeep lies.