"'Ere, two bob, missie," said the flyman, "when you've done canoodling."
They ran into the parlour, and laughed at each other in the gaslight.
"Take your things off," said Tattie: "let me help you. I hope you'll like the diggings. I wrote to the swellest address I could hear of, when I got your letter."
"But you shouldn't have. What for?"
"Well, for you."
"I wanted everything just as it used to be. That was it."
"How funny! But I don't suppose these will strike you as very swagger after what you've got at home."
"They don't."
"Won't they be good enough?"
"They're heavenly. Oh, Tattie, how good it is to be back! Did anybody bring in my trunk? 'In the Shade of the Palm,' and a Vocal Folio on the piano! And professional photographs on the shelf! Oh, let me see the photographs! 'To Mrs. Cheney from Miss Bijou Chamberlain—wishing you a Merry Christmas.' Who is she?"