"Across the landing? She'll do!" nodded Mr. Ravenslee.
"But I'm wonderin' if you'll do; she's a holy terror when she likes, Geoff."
"Across the landing? I'll put up with her!" murmured Mr. Ravenslee.
"But, say, you don't know Mrs. Trapes."
"Not yet, Spike."
"Well, she ain't no easy mark, Geoff! Most everybody in Mulligan's is scared of her when she cuts loose; she can talk ye deaf, dumb an' paralysed, she can so. She sure is aces up on d' chin-music, Geoff!"
"But then she lives just opposite, and that circumstance, methinks, doth cover a multitude of—" Mr. Ravenslee yawned again.
"Anyway, it's a sure thing she won't take you if she don't like ye, Geoff."
"Why, then, she must like me!" said Mr. Ravenslee and proceeded to light his pipe; whereupon Spike produced a box of cigarettes, but, in the act of lighting one, paused, and sighing, put it away again.
"I promised d' Spider I wouldn't, Geoff," he explained. "Y' see, I'm sort of in trainin', and Spider says smoke's bad for d' wind, and d' Spider knows."