Malloy was silent.
"So your mother is very ill?" continued the captain.
"Yes, sir,—locomotive attacks, sir."
"And poor, I take it?"
"Yes, sir,—four bob a week."
Hemming felt in his pockets and drew out a sovereign.
"Sorry it's so little," he said, "but if you give me her address to-morrow I'll call and see her."
"God bless you, sir," said the man. He took the money, and hesitated beside the table.
Hemming glanced at him inquiringly.
"Beggin' your pardon, sir, it beats me how you knows when I'm lyin' and when I'm tellin' the truth," exclaimed the orderly.