'Na, don't go yet; I want ter talk ter yer,' he replied.
'Wot abaht? anythin' in partickler?' She would drag it out of him if she possibly could.
'Not thet I knows on,' he said, smiling.
'Good night!' she said, abruptly, turning away from him.
'Well, I'm damned if 'e ain't forgotten!' she said to herself, sulkily, as she marched home.
The following evening about six o'clock, it suddenly struck her that it was the last night of the 'New and Sensational Drama'.
'I do like thet Jim Blakeston,' she said to herself; 'fancy treatin' me like thet! You wouldn't catch Tom doin' sich a thing. Bli'me if I speak to 'im again, the ——. Now I shan't see it at all. I've a good mind ter go on my own 'ook. Fancy 'is forgettin' all abaht it, like thet!'
She was really quite indignant; though, as she had distinctly refused Jim's offer, it was rather hard to see why.
''E said 'e'd wite for me ahtside the doors; I wonder if 'e's there. I'll go an' see if 'e is, see if I don't—an' then if 'e's there, I'll go in on my own 'ook, jist ter spite 'im!'