“Silence, let me have no more of this. Have you got an answer?”
“Well, in course I have, but you won’t give a cove time. I never seed such a pretty little tartar in all my born days.”
“Give me the answer if you’ve got one.”
“Didn’t I tell you I had? Here it is. Am I to wait outside or come in?”
“Oh come in,” cried Amy, in a pet, slamming the door violently. “I shall be glad when we are rid of you.”
She went into the parlour.
“Ah, I aint fortunate wi’ women or gals, never was,” murmured Cooney, looking meditatively at the hall clock. “Charles Peace is the man for that sort of business. He’d make any on ’em b’lieve black was white if he’d a mind to. Howsomever, it don’t much matter, I s’pose. They’ve been a deal of trouble to Charlie—that’s sartin sure.”
Amy returned, gave Cooney two half-crowns for his trouble, and told him to be off.
“You’re in a jolly hurry to get rid of me,” said he. “I’ll give ye the two half bulls if you’ll——”
“Well, what?”