"Gawd bless you, good gen'leman!"
The third lifted a tattered scarlet head-shawl, and flashed a pair of jet-black Oriental eyes upon him:
"Fortune and Life!"
To her he said, with a creditable effort at cheeriness:
"I've lost the fortune, mother! the life's about all I've got that's left to me!"
"And a good thing too, my gorgious! Don't yer complain of it! Come, tip us yer vast!" She added, as he stared uncomprehending—"Eight or left-hand dook—whichever the Line's brightest in. Have yer a—No! I'll give yer of my jinnepen for naught!"
He held out the broad, strong palm, grimy enough by dawn-light. She peered, spat on the chilly gray pavement and said:
"You keep up heart—there's a change a-coming soon!"
"Can't come too soon for me!" His smile was rueful.
"Keep up heart, I tell yer!" she bade him. "Yer'll travel a long road and a bloody road, and yer'll tramp it with the one yer love, and never know it. Until the end, that is, when tute is jasing. And there's a finer fortune than I meant yer to get o' me! Shake her up, Bet!" She explained, as the other woman turned to rouse the sleeper, "Taken a great cold, she has! We're fetching her to the Hospital. 'Tholomewses in Smithell, for the gorgio doctors to make her well. Though that's not where I would lie, my rye, and my pipes playing the death-tune. Shoon tu, dilya! Better shake her again!"