Utterly nonplussed, the Sailor went early to bed with his shame.
IX
In the opinion of Cox's Piece, "lift" was not the word for the bearing of Ginger on the morrow at the mid-day gathering. It was pardonable, no doubt; Ginger was Ginger, a being apart. Twopenny Sturgess wouldn't half have had it dusted out of him. It wouldn't have been stood from Gogo, or Hogan, or Foxey Green, but with Ginger it was different. It was realized in a way that was almost sinister by the cognoscenti of Cox's Piece that if there was such a thing existing in the world, Ginger was really and truly It.
Nevertheless, Pouncer Rogers was so unwise as to put into words the unspoken thought that was in every mind when he told Ginger bluntly to his face "that he'd believe it when he seed it."
"Yer call me a liar," said Ginger, drawing himself up to his full height of five feet six inches with remarkable dignity.
"I said I'd believe it when I seed it," said the heroic Pouncer.
"Sailor here read the letter," said Ginger, underplaying from the sheer strength of his hand. "Didn't you, Sailor boy? You read Dinkie Dawson's letter?"
"Yep," said the miserable Sailor.
"An' didn't he say a day's wages and railway fares both ways?"