"I must ha' left it at 'ome," she ses, looking at George.
"Just wot I've done," ses George, arter patting 'is pockets.
Gerty bit 'er lips and, for a minute or two, be civil to George she could not. Then she gave a little smile and took 'is arm agin, and they walked on talking and laughing till she turned round of a sudden and asked a big chap as was passing wot 'e was shoving 'er for.
"Shoving you?" ses he. "Wot do you think I want to shove you for?"
"Don't you talk to me," ses Gerty, firing up. "George, make 'im beg my pardon."
"You ought to be more careful," ses George, in a gentle sort o' way.
"Make 'im beg my pardon," ses Gerty, stamping 'er foot; "if he don't, knock 'im down."
"Yes, knock 'im down," ses the big man, taking hold o' George's cap and rumpling his 'air.
Pore George, who was never much good with his fists, hit 'im in the chest, and the next moment he was on 'is back in the middle o' the road wondering wot had 'appened to 'im. By the time 'e got up the other man was arf a mile away; and young Ted stepped up and wiped 'im down with a pocket-'andkerchief while Gerty explained to 'im 'ow she saw 'im slip on a piece o' banana peel.
"It's 'ard lines," she ses; "but never mind, you frightened 'im away, and I don't wonder at it. You do look terrible when you're angry, George; I didn't know you."