Once again he alluded to Biddy.

We were standing outside, and his eye fell upon the row of shining pop-taps-- "Wouldn't she be the proud woman now, av she could see me!" he cried.
"Why don't you get her out to live with you ?" I asked.
He shook his head, "I'm a married man, Mr .-- -- bad luck to me, I've forgotten your name now!" "I didn't trouble you with it.

Well, I hope you'll go and see her before she dies." But when I came to think of it, I did not feel sure if that was what I wished.

Not being a woman, how could I balance the choice of pain?
How could I tell if it were better for her to be disappointed with every ship and every tide, still having faith in her own Micky, and hope of his coming, or for the tide and the ship to bring him with all his meanness upon the head she loved, a huge disappointment, once for all!.