'You say your uncle is dangerously ill, and you won't compromise?
There's something very fishy about that.' 'What do you mean ?' cried Morris hoarsely.
'I only say it's fishy,' returned Michael, 'that is, pertaining to the finny tribe.' 'Do you mean to insinuate anything ?' cried Morris stormily, trying the high hand.
'Insinuate ?' repeated Michael.

'O, don't let's begin to use awkward expressions! Let us drown our differences in a bottle, like two affable kinsmen.

The Two Affable Kinsmen, sometimes attributed to Shakespeare,' he added.
Morris's mind was labouring like a mill.

'Does he suspect?
or is this chance and stuff?
Should I soap, or should I bully?
Soap,' he concluded.
'It gains time.' 'Well,' said he aloud, and with rather a painful affectation of heartiness, 'it's long since we have had an evening together, Michael; and though my habits (as you know) are very temperate, I may as well make an exception.

Excuse me one moment till I fetch a bottle of whisky from the cellar.' 'No whisky for me,' said Michael; 'a little of the old still champagne or nothing.' For a moment Morris stood irresolute, for the wine was very valuable: the next he had quitted the room without a word.