“Which way are you going?” inquired he. “I’ll join you, if I may.”
We could hardly say no, and yet we neither of us relished the offer. However, he did not appear to notice our reluctance, and walked along with us, conversing in his usual pleasant way.
“I hope we shall be good friends at the office,” he said, after a long uncomfortable pause.
“I hope so,” said I, who knew it was not much use to rely on Jack Smith to keep up the conversation.
“I dare say you know,” said he, “that my uncle’s idea is for me some day to join him and Mr Barnacle, but of course that depends on how I get on.”
“Yes,” said I, as there was a pause here.
“In any case I hope that won’t make any difference between us old schoolfellows,” he continued. “I hope not,” again I replied.
“Where are you living in London?” he presently asked. I told him, and he thereupon proceeded to make further kind inquiries as to how we liked our quarters, if we had nice friends, what we did with ourselves, and so on. All of which it fell-to my lot to answer, as Jack Smith showed no inclination to assist me.
At length we reached the top of Style Street, where, as usual, the athletic Billy was at his sports. I really believe he spent the entire time he was not blacking boots in walking round and round his box on the palms of his hands with his feet up in the air.
At the sight of his patron he dropped promptly to attention.