Abner went straight up to her. The mood of physical triumph and elation was still on him, and she must have known that there was something strange about him since, for the first time, she lowered her eyes.
‘I want a word with you, Susie,’ he said, addressing her thus for the first time.
‘Best hurry up, then,’ she said, smiling. ‘It’s only two minutes afore we close. What are you taking?’
‘Give us a double gin,’ he said, and while she poured the limpid spirit into a clean glass he asked her what she was doing on Sunday afternoon.
She wouldn’t answer him. ‘Look what good measure I’ve given you,’ she said, handing him his glass.
He put the drink down on the counter. ‘You’re not goin’ to put me off like that,’ he said. She murmured something about Mr Badger.
‘Damn you and your Badgers,’ he said. ‘What about to-night, then?’
‘Oh, don’t be soft! Look at the time. It’s just on ten.’
‘Get on with you! The time don’t matter.’
‘No, I couldn’t,’ she said. ‘Of course I couldn’t. Father’s gone upstairs.’ The clock struck ten. Susie called, ‘Time, please!’ and the cloggers rose to go in the middle of one of Wigan Joe’s most complicated stories. They moved toward the door in a bunch, bidding good-night to Susie, who stood waiting with the key in her hand. Abner stayed by the bar finishing his gin. The last good-nights echoed down the street. Susie stood at the open door waiting for him.