"That's something like an inspiration," said Constable Nightingale, looking amorously at Mrs. Middlemore, who smiled amorously at him in return.
Constable Wigg cut these amorous inclinings short by remarking, "We was talking of Mr. Felix. Nightingale commenced twice to-night telling a story about him, and it's not told yet."
"Not my fault, Wigg," Constable Nightingale managed to say, with his mouth full.
"I'll tell my story first," said Mrs. Middlemore, "and he can tell his afterward. Try them sausages, Mr. Wigg. Mr. Felix always 'as the best of everythink. I buy 'em at Wall's. So when he ses 'Agreed' to the rent and attendance, he ses, 'And about servants?' 'I can't afford to keep more than one, sir,' I ses. 'You can, ses he; 'you can afford to keep none. You'll find me the best tenant you ever 'ad, and what you've got to do is to foller my instructions. 'I'll do my best, sir,' ses I. 'It'll pay you,' ses he, 'to let me do exactly as I please, and never to cross me.' And I'm bound to say, Mr. Wigg, that it 'as paid me never to cross 'im and never to arks questions. 'We shall git along capitally together,' ses he, 'without servants. They're a prying, idle lot, and I won't 'ave 'em creeping up the stairs on welwet toes to find out what I'm doing. So keep none, Mrs. Middlemore,' he ses, 'not the ghost of one. You can wait on me without assistance. If I want to entertain a visitor or two I'll 'ave the meals brought in ready cooked, and if we want hextra attendance I'll git Gunter to send in a man as knows 'is business and can 'old 'is tongue.' Of course I was agreeable to that, and he pays me down a month in advance, like the gentleman he is. Though I don't drink sperrits, Mr. Nightingale, that's no reason why you should deny yourself. You know where the bottle is, and per'aps Mr. Wigg will jine you."
"Mrs. Middlemore," said Constable Wigg, "you're a lady after my own heart, and I'm glad I'm alive. Here's looking toward you."
"Thank you, Mr. Wigg," said Mrs. Middlemore, "and what I say is it's a shame that men like you and Mr. Nightingale should be trapesing the streets with the snow coming down and the wind a-blowing as it is now. Jest listen to it; it's going on worse than ever. Might I take the liberty of inquiring--you being on the beat, Mr. Wigg--whether you sor a lady come out of the house while I was gone for the supper beer?"
"No lady came out of the house," replied Constable Wigg. "A man did."
"A man!" cried Mrs. Middlemore. "Not Mr. Felix, surely!"
"No, not him," said Constable Nightingale. "A strange-looking man with a red handkercher round his neck."
"A strange-looking man, with a red 'andkercher round 'is neck?" exclaimed Mrs. Middlemore. "'Ow did he git in?"