"These tea-leaves are scattered everywhere," said Mrs Murtagh, "it's like they've all exploded from the bottom of the cup to give this reading." Her shaky hand traced the pin over a small clear area near the rim, "And look at this spot, high up above them, there's not one leaf on it."
"What is it?" asked Mrs Fegan, "hold on it looks like one of those Zeppelin things."
"Yer right girl," said Mrs Murtagh, she cried, "don't tell me they're going to drop bombs on our boys!"
"They'll be alright, you take a good look now," urged Mrs Fegan.
"I thought I saw something before but it's gone....No! There it is. It's my Paddy! He's hurt!"
"Are you sure Muriel? Show me," pleaded Mrs Fegan. The shaky pin drew round the figure of a man laying down.
"But look, if it's him he's higher than little Hughie in the cup," said Mrs Fegan, "what does that mean?"
Mrs Murtagh shook her head slowly from side to side, "My poor lad." A moistness was in her eyes, she took out a grubby hanky and blew her great nose.
AYer could do with a drink,@ said Mrs Fegan, she went out into the backyard where there were crates of stout, some crates were filled with empties others waited to be consumed, Aget this down yer girl,@ she encouraged biting the top off the bottle with her thick teeth.