'Well, yer ain't goin' ter 'ave one now, any'ow,' Martin retorted. 'If you goes drinkin' now, I sha'n't come ter tea along o' yer an' Missis Figgins; an' I wants me two bob back, strite, I do.'
'Wot d' yer want ter go spoilin' a chap's bit o' sport fur?' Billings grumbled feelingly. 'I'm that dry I could jist do wi' a pint. No more'n a pint, I promises yer.'
But Pincher was adamant. 'If yer feels dry yer kin go and buy yerself some lemonade. Yer don't git no beer while yer along o' me.'
'Lemonade! 'Oo wants lemonade, 'orrible pisenous stuff full o' hacids an' sich like! Only fit fur kids ter swaffle!'
'Yer won't git no beer, so it ain't no use yer talkin'.'
'Oh, ain't it bloomin' well?' the A.B. exclaimed, beginning to get angry. 'Yer ain't lookin' arter me, yer knows. It's me wot's lookin' arter you.'
Pincher held out his hand. 'Orl right, then,' he said quietly; 'give me back me two bob wot yer borrowed.'
Joshua glared at him in speechless astonishment 'Give it back to yer?' he almost shouted. 'Not 'arf I don't!'
'Orl right. S' long, then; I'm not comin' along ter tea wi' Missis Figgins. Yer knows werry well yer carn't go takin' ladies along ter th' pictures if yer starts drinkin' now.' Martin pretended to move off.
There was some truth in the remark, and Billings felt rather foolish. ''Ere, 'arf a mo'!' he expostulated. 'Don't shove orf. Look 'ere, chum; she 'as a drop 'erself now an' then. Allus 'as a bottle o' stout along wi' 'er dinner, an' another along o' 'er supper. Told me so 'erself.' He looked hopefully to see if this information would have the desired effect, but Martin merely shook his head.