The old man, her reputed grandfather, “did the lame lurk” during the day—that is, shammed lameness, and at night had his leg unbandaged, and could walk nimbly enough across the room.
He was a picturesque old scoundrel, and his grey hairs doubtless helped him more than his lameness, and enabled him to smoke his pipe, drink his pint, and supply half the same quantity to the girl who devoted herself so uncomplainingly to him.
The old man was now and then irritated by the whispering of “an out-and-out swell vagrant,” who sat next his grand-daughter and endeavoured to flirt with her.
But the girl did not encourage the amorous swain; she shifted her seat to the other side of the old man, who fell foul of the “swell,” whom he soundly rated.
“Shut up! stow it!” exclaimed several, addressing themselves to the young man. “You aint everybody, and the girl don’t want to have any of your fine speeches.”
The young man, finding himself in the minority, desisted from further importunities.
Joe Doughty’s attention was now attracted to another object, this being the landlord, who had entered the room, and, after having spoken to several of its occupants, he came in front of Joe and said—
“Out or in, young man?”
Doughty, who did not know what he meant, affected not to hear him.
“Why don’t you answer?” said the landlord. “Out or in?”