“What for?”
“’Spicious character. The p’leece put a jemmy in my carpenter’s bag and found it there. Mr. Folyat ’e spoke for my repu-character, but you can’t say nothing agin the p’leece. There it was, and I ’ad to do my six months. Here we are. You look like a sea-faring man.”
“Good-night,” said Serge.
“Good-night.” And the man shambled off.
Serge stood gazing at the door and then he turned and looked over the square at the Wesleyan Chapel. A factory hooter buzzed. From the inside of the house came the wailing of a violin.
Serge knocked at the door Minna opened it and stood peering out at him.
“Hullo!” said Serge. “Which are you? Mary?”
“My father isn’t in,” replied Minna.
“All the better. You don’t remember me, and I’ve been thinking of you as a baby. I’m Serge.”