“What do you say to a game of dominoes?” said Harry.
“They won’t allow em ere,” said Lazyman.
“Won’t they,” answered Outofwork. “I’ll warrant if the Sergeant likes to play there’s no landlord’ll stop him, ay, Sergeant?”
“Well, I believe,” said the Sergeant, “as one of the Queen’s servants, I have the privilege of playing when I like.”
“Good,” said Harry, “and I’ll be a Queen’s man too, so out with the shilling, Sergeant.”
“Wait till the morning,” said the Sergeant.
“No,” said Harry. “I’ve had enough waiting. I’m on, give me the shilling.”
The Sergeant said, “Well, let me see, what height are you?” and he stood up beside him.
“Ah!” he said, “I think I can get you in,” saying which he gave him a shilling; such a bright coin, that it seemed to have come fresh from the Queen’s hand.
Then the Sergeant took out some beautiful bright ribbons which he was understood to say (but did not say) the Queen had given him that morning. Then he rang the bell, and the buxom waitress appearing he asked for the favour of a needle and thread, which, the radiant damsel producing, with her own fair fingers she sewed the ribbons on to Harry’s cap, smiling with admiration all the while. Even this little incident was not without its effect on the observant “head witness,” and he felt an unaccountable fascination to have the same office performed by the same fair hands on his own hat.