"All right," replied Mr. Chester, anxious to be off. "The old woman'll see to that. You come along with me now, and have a glass at the Royal George. Goodnight, Sally. Give us a kiss."
He stooped to Sally's face, and kissed her. With her arms round his neck, she pulled him to his knees, and made him kiss the sleeping child on the ground. Then, when he raised his face, she kissed him again, and with her mouth close to his, inhaled his breath, and exclaimed:
"Oh, shouldn't I like some to drink! I can only smell it now."
"Like some what, Sally?" asked the stranger, as in a shame-faced way, Mr. Chester turned from his child. "Some gin," answered Sally, with a smack of her lips.
Mr. Chester rose to his feet, with a rueful look.
"Give me a kiss, too, Sally," said the stranger; "I'm fond of game little girls."
But Sally was not to be won over, and when the stranger tried to force the kiss from her, she dug her fingers into his sandy whiskers with such spiteful intention that he was glad to free himself from her clutches.
"There, get out!" cried Mrs. Chester. "Can't you see the child don't want to have anything to do with you? You'll find your bed ready when you come home, which I expect won't be till you're turned out of the Royal George. Dick'll show you your room."
She caught up the sleeping child, and taking the candle, retired to the inner room, driving Sally before her.