"And what is your particular department?" she abruptly demanded.
"I work for the sporting press--I am what is known as a sporting journalist," replied Koko.
The inquisitive expression on Miss Bird's face turned into a stony glare of disapproval.
"You go to horse-races?"
Koko did not like being cross-examined about his private affairs in this unblushing manner. So he determined to let this rude old lady know all about himself so as to save further questions.
"Yes, I attend horse-races and swimming-matches, and billiard-matches and prize-fights----"
"Then you ought to be ashamed of yourself!" roared Miss Bird. As for Mr Cleave, he uttered a thin, high cough. He had heard that the average journalist did his work with a bottle of brandy at his elbow--what then must a journalist be like who reported prize-fights and horse-races! What indeed!
With a sigh he sought distraction in the long list of "Homes for Inebriates" which appeared regularly in The Total Abstainer. This weekly journal was Mr Cleave's invariable comforter when he felt distressed. Besides, it offered £100 insurance in the event of one of its regular subscribers being accidentally killed. Several of Mr Cleave's nearest relatives took in the paper, and Mr Cleave had often calculated what amount he would receive as insurance should all these relatives be killed in one railway accident.
"I believe," Miss Bird went on (as Koko made no rejoinder), "that drunkenness is a common vice among persons working for the press. Is that not so, Mr Cleave?"
"Pardon?" queried Cleave, putting his hand to his ear.