“You trust me, mate,” ses Jack Bates; “if I don't get that seventy-two pounds for you, you may call me a Dutchman. Why, it's fair robbery, I call it, sticking to your money like that.”
They spent the rest o' the day together, and when evening came Charlie went off to the Cooks'. Emma 'ad arf expected they was going to a theayter that night, but Charlie said he wasn't feeling the thing, and he sat there so quiet and miserable they didn't know wot to make of 'im.
“'Ave you got any trouble on your mind, Charlie,” ses Mrs. Cook, “or is it the tooth-ache?”
“It ain't the toothache,” ses Charlie.
He sat there pulling a long face and staring at the floor, but all Mrs. Cook and Emma could do 'e wouldn't tell them wot was the matter with 'im. He said 'e didn't want to worry other people with 'is troubles; let everybody bear their own, that was 'is motto. Even when George Smith offered to go to the theayter with Emma instead of 'im he didn't fire up, and, if it 'adn't ha' been for Mrs. Cook, George wouldn't ha' been sorry that 'e spoke.
“Theayters ain't for me,” ses Charlie, with a groan. “I'm more likely to go to gaol, so far as I can see, than a theayter.”
Mrs. Cook and Emma both screamed and Sarah Ann did 'er first highstericks, and very well, too, considering that she 'ad only just turned fifteen.
“Gaol!” ses old Cook, as soon as they 'ad quieted Sarah Ann with a bowl o' cold water that young Bill 'ad the presence o' mind to go and fetch. “Gaol! What for?”
“You wouldn't believe if I was to tell you.” ses Charlie, getting up to go, “and besides, I don't want any of you to think as 'ow I am worse than wot I am.”
He shook his 'cad at them sorrowful-like, and afore they could stop 'im he 'ad gone. Old Cook shouted arter 'im, but it was no use, and the others was running into the scullery to fill the bowl agin for Emma.