Part 26 (2/2)
”Where's the 'arm?” he ses, very sulky.
”'Arm?” I ses. ”I won't 'ave it, that's all; and if you knew my missis you'd know without any telling.”
”I'll bet you a pound to a sixpence she wouldn't know me,” he ses, very earnest.
”She won't 'ave the chance,” I ses, ”so that's all about it.”
He stood there argufying for about ten minutes; but I was as firm as a rock. I wouldn't move an inch, and at last, arter we was both on the point of losing our tempers, he picked up his bag and said as 'ow he must be getting off 'ome.
”But ain't you going to take those things off fust?” I ses.
”No,” he ses, smiling. ”I'll wait till I get 'ome. Ta-ta.”
He put 'is bag on 'is shoulder and walked to the gate, with me follering of 'im.
”I expect I shall see a cab soon,” he ses. ”Good-bye.”
”Wot are you laughing at?” I ses.
”On'y thoughts,” he ses.
”'Ave you got far to go?' I ses.
”No; just about the same distance as you 'ave,” he ses, and he went off spluttering like a soda-water bottle.
I took the broom and 'ad a good sweep-up arter he 'ad gorn, and I was just in the middle of it when the cook and the other two chaps from the Saltram came back, with three other sailormen and a brewer's drayman they 'ad brought to see me DANCE!
”Same as you did a little while ago, Bill,” ses the cook, taking out 'is beastly mouth-orgin and wiping it on 'is sleeve. ”Wot toon would you like?”
I couldn't get away from 'em, and when I told them I 'ad never danced in my life the cook asked me where I expected to go to. He told the drayman that I'd been dancing like a fairy in sea-boots, and they all got in front of me and wouldn't let me pa.s.s. I lost my temper at last, and, arter they 'ad taken the broom away from me and the drayman and one o'
the sailormen 'ad said wot they'd do to me if I was on'y fifty years younger, they sheered off.
I locked the gate arter 'em and went back to the office, and I 'adn't been there above 'arf an hour when somebody started ringing the gate-bell as if they was mad. I thought it was the cook's lot come back at fust, so I opened the wicket just a trifle and peeped out. There was a 'ansom-cab standing outside, and I 'ad hardly got my nose to the crack when the actor-chap, still in my clothes, pushed the door open and nipped in.
”You've lost,” he ses, pus.h.i.+ng the door to and smiling all over.
”Where's your sixpence?”
”Lost?” I ses, hardly able to speak. ”D'ye mean to tell me you've been to my wife arter all-arter all I said to you?”
”I do,” he ses, nodding, and smiling agin. ”They were both deceived as easy as easy.”
”Both?” I ses, staring at 'im. ”Both wot? 'Ow many wives d'ye think I've got? Wot d'ye mean by it?”
”Arter I left you,” he ses, giving me a little poke in the ribs, ”I picked up a cab and, fust leaving my bag at Aldgate, I drove on to your 'ouse and knocked at the door. I knocked twice, and then an angry-looking woman opened it and asked me wot I wanted.
”'It's all right, missis,' I ses. 'I've got 'arf an hour off, and I've come to take you out for a walk.'
<script>