“Now, then?” said Barney, as Jenkles stopped short.
“Now, then,” said Jenkles, “where are you going?”
“In there,” said Barney, savagely; and he nodded towards the room.
“No, you ain’t,” said Jenkles; “you’re a-going downstairs.”
“Oh, am I? I’ll just show you about that.”
He rushed up two more of the stairs; but Jenkles did not budge an inch—only met the brute with such a firm, unflinching look in his ugly eyes that the bully was cowed, puzzled at the opposition.
“You’re a-going downstairs to send yer missus up; and jest you tell her to go and take a spoonful o’ treacle out o’ the shop afore she does come up, so as she’ll be a little bit sweeter when the ladies pays her.”
Then Jenkles walked back into the room, rammed his hand into his pocket, and pulled out a dirty canvas bag, out of which he fished a piece of rag tied tightly, in one corner of which was a sovereign, which had to be set free with his teeth. From another corner he tried to extricate a half-sovereign, but it would not come, the knot was too tight.
“Here, lends a pair o’ scissors,” he exclaimed, angrily.
“What are you going to do?” said Mrs Lane.