“Ye mean to say as how ’twas black men that turned upon their masters, and that’s how the city fell? Good on ’em!” “Mrs. O’Meara!” Miss Crabb exclaimed. “You cannot mean that!” “The divil I don’t,” Moira replied stoutly, plunking the pot back on the table with such force that tea sputtered across the cloth. “And ye’d mean the same, if ye’d ever been a ’denture, like I was. Death to the masters, says I!”
