“‘And yer darter!’ shrieked the woman.
“‘And my daughter. And I am drunk now, and hope to be drunk to-morrow.’
“‘Ah! you old beast!’ said she, just as I had, shaking her fist.
“He turned round to me, and said, ‘I am obliged to you, sir. I don’t know your name.’
“‘You wouldn’t be better off if you did,’ says I. ‘You couldn’t drink it.’
“‘Will you give me a sovereign?’ he asked. ‘A week’s joy, sir,—a week’s joy and life.’
“‘Give it me,’ said the woman, ‘then me and she’ll get something to eat, to keep us alive.’
“I’m a benevolent man at bottom, Mr. Neston, as Blodwell remarks. I said,
“‘Here’s a sovereign for you and her’ (I supposed she meant the daughter) ‘to help in keeping you alive; and here’s a sovereign for you, sir, to help in killing you—and the sooner the better, say I.’
“‘You’re right,’ said he. ‘The liquor’s beginning to lose its taste. And when that’s gone, Luke Gale’s gone!’”