"You don't think of your poor wife," said Mrs Peake, "who's lost over three shillings," and she nudged Randolph Sneyd.
"Here, Nan," Peake answered quickly. "You shall have the lot." He dropped the eleven and fourpence into the kitty-shell, and pushed it across the table to her.
"Thank you, James," said Mrs Peake. "Ella, your father's given me eleven and fourpence."
"Oh, father!" The long girl by the fire jumped up, suddenly alert. "Do give me half-a-crown. You've no conception how hard up I am."
"You're a grasping little vixen, that's what you are. Come and give me a light." He gazed affectionately at her smiling flushed face and tangled hair.
When she had lighted his cigar, Ella furtively introduced her thin fingers into his waistcoat-pocket, where he usually kept a reserve of money against a possible failure of his trouser-pockets.
"May I?" she questioned, drawing out a coin. It was a four-shilling piece.
"No. Get away."
"I'll give you change."
"Oh! take it," he yielded, "and begone with ye, and ring for something to drink."