“No.”
“You’ve run away,” said the man.
“Pr’aps I ’ave,” said Bealby.
“Pr’aps you ’ave! Why pr’aps? You ’ave! What’s the good of telling lies abart it? When’d you start?”
“Monday,” said Bealby.
The tramp reflected. “Had abart enough of it?”
“Dunno,” said Bealby truthfully.
“Like some soup?”
“Yes.”
“’Ow much?”