“There’s a wife for you,” he said—“there’s a helpmate; and I aint made my guv’nor’s money to-day by four bob.”
“I couldn’t help it, Sam—I couldn’t, indeed,” she said; bursting into tears; “it was so pitiful—she’s a real lady, I’m sure, and her daughter, straining over that heart-breaking work; oh! it was more than I could bear.”
“I wasn’t such a werry great fool, Sally,” he said.
“Oh no, Sam. Oh no. But I haven’t told you all yet.”
“You haven’t?”
“No, dear.”
“Well, put me out of my misery at once,” said Sam, “that’s all.”
“Don’t be angry with me, Sam, it’ll come back to us some way, I hope; and if it don’t, we shall only have done what thousands more would have done if they had only known.”
“Let’s have it,” said Sam, gruffly.
“They’re paying seven and six, Sam, for those wretched rooms, and the woman’s a horrid creature.”