"Hermy—Hermione, sir."
"Hermione—why, that's Greek! It's a very beautiful name!"
"Kind of fits her too!" nodded Spike, warming to his theme. "Hermy's ace-high on the face and figure question! Why, there ain't a swell dame on Fift' Av'ner, nor nowheres else, got anything on Hermy as a looker!"
"And what of your father and mother?"
"Ain't got none—don't remember having none—don't want none; Hermy's good 'nuff for me."
"Good to you, is she?" enquired Mr. Ravenslee.
"Good t' me!" cried Spike, "good? Well, say—when I think about it I—I gets watery in me lamps, kinder sloppy in me talk, an' all mushy inside! Good t' me? Well, you can just bet on that!"
"And," enquired Mr. Ravenslee sleepily, "are you as good to her?"
Hereupon Spike turned his cap inside out and looked at it thoughtfully. "I—I dunno, mister."
"Ah! perhaps you—make her cry, sometimes?"