Mr. Dawkins received this information with his sunniest smile. "Don't be shy, ole love," he said. "Bill don't fret, thank Gawd. My name is Bill Dawkins. Thank Gawd fur that!"
"I shan't be shy," replied the doctor, with a reassuring smirk, as he fumbled amongst a case of cutlery. "What have you been up to, by the way?"
Mr. Dawkins, however, had relapsed into melody: and the only answer which Dr. Brink received to his inquiry was the assurance that he was Mr. Dawkins's Bluebell.
"What has he been up to?" asked the doctor again, addressing himself to the largest escort.
"Eh?" said that gentleman.
"I say," repeated the doctor, preparing for action, "that I'd like to know what he's been up to?"
"'Oo been up to?" inquired the escort.
"William," said the doctor.
"'E ain't been up to nothing. This is young Bill Dawkins. 'E ain't done no 'arm."
"But what is the cause of all this?"