“Walking about in a suit of clothes you’ve ’ad give to you don’t cost much,” contended Mr. Dobb.
“Ah, but you can’t set up a home on a suit of clothes!” pointed out Mr. Lock, regretfully; and then he laughed quite merrily. “Why, I hardly know the young lady, either!”
“A nice, pretty, well-spoken girl she is, too!” said Mr. Dobb. “Make any man a good wife, she would. I tell you straight, if I wasn’t married—”
“I must say, I can’t make out how you had the heart to do it, ’Orace,” observed Mr. Lock.
“Neither can I, now! Serves me right! I—I couldn’t ever be really worthy of ’er. A nice, smart, good-looking young fellow, that’s ’oo she deserves for a ’usband. A young fellow just like you, Peter,” he ended softly.
“Me? Oh, I dunno!” murmured Mr. Lock, in confused modesty.
“Well, I do!” cried Mr. Dobb. “You take my advice, my boy, and go in and win!”
“And leave everything nice and clear for you, eh?” asked Mr. Lock.
“I—I wasn’t thinking about myself,” said Mr. Dobb. “I ain’t so selfish as all that, Peter.”
“Anyway, what’s the good of talking?” demanded Mr. Lock, irritably. “I can’t afford to set up house-keeping. Where am I to get the furniture from for a start off?”