Trampy turned round, half-reluctantly: he didn’t like those jokes, but he didn’t wish to seem afraid.
“Where? Where do you see Jimmy?” he grumbled.
“There, in front of you,” insisted Lily, pointing with her finger and pushing him by the shoulder. “Off you go!”
There was no drawing back. He marched straight up to Jimmy, who did not even recognize him and who stopped politely. But Trampy had time for reflection, no doubt: a clearer perception of professional brotherhood. Better, after all, to remain friends ... among artistes. And, when he stood before him:
“H’m, h’m. Have you got a light about you, Jimmy? Give us a match,” said Trampy, taking a cigar from his pocket.
CHAPTER V
It stifled Lily, for the moment. She would rather have received twenty “contracts” with the steel buckle than see that cowardice in her husband. She had her Pa’s blood in her, damn it!
“What!” she thought. “He believes me to misconduct myself with Jimmy, and he is too much of a coward to object!”