"'Ow is she, Joe?" she wheezed.
Then as he stepped aside to allow Mrs. Hearty to precede him into the kitchen, Bindle found voice. "I think she's better," he mumbled.
CHAPTER XII
MRS. BINDLE BREAKS AN ARMISTICE
I
"Pleasant company, you are," snapped Mrs. Bindle, as she made an onslaught upon the kitchen fire, jabbing it viciously with a short steel poker.
Bindle looked up from the newspaper he was reading. It was the third attack upon the kitchen fire within the space of five minutes, and he recognised the portents—a storm was brewing.
"I might as well be on a desert island for all the company you are," she continued. "Here am I alone all day long with no one to speak to, and when you come home you just sit reading the horse-racing news in the paper."
"Wot jer like to talk about?" he enquired, allowing the paper to drop to the floor opposite him.