"I—I——" began the girl, then she, too, stopped abruptly.
"You've been with that hussy Mabel Warnes again." There was accusation and conviction in Mrs. Brunger's tone. "Don't you deny it," she continued, although the girl made no sign of doing so. "I warned you what I'd do to you if you went out with that fast little baggage again, and I'll do it, so help me God, I will." Her voice was rising angrily.
"'Ere, look 'ere, missis——" began Bindle.
"My name's Brunger—Mrs. Brunger," she added, to prevent any possibility of misconception. "I thought I told you once."
"You did," said Bindle cheerfully. "Now, look 'ere," he continued persuasively, "we're only young once."
Mrs. Brunger snorted disdainfully; and the look she gave her daughter caused the girl to shrink closer to the wall.
"Rare cove I was for gettin' 'ome late," remarked Bindle reminiscently.
"More shame you," was the uncompromising retort.
"Shouldn't wonder if you was a bit late now an' again when you was a gal," he continued, looking up at Mrs. Brunger with critical appreciation—"or else the chaps didn't know wot was wot," he added.
"Two blacks don't make a white," was Mrs. Brunger's obscure comment.