“I don't know,” ses Ginger, careless-like, “I ain't made up my mind yet.”
Peter looked at 'im and then 'e looked at Sam and winked. “Let me 'ave a try,” he ses; “I'll bet you another 'arf dollar that I take 'er out. P'r'aps I shall come 'ome in a better temper than wot you 'ave.”
Old Sam said it wasn't right to play with a gal's 'art in that way, but arter a lot o' talking and telling Sam to shut up, Ginger took the bet. He was quite certain in his own mind that Miss Gill would slam the door in Peter's face, and arter he 'ad started off next morning, Ginger and Sam waited in to 'ave the pleasure of laughing in 'is face.
They got tired of waiting at last, and went out to enjoy themselves, and breathe the fresh air in a pub down Poplar way. They got back at seven o'clock, and ten minutes arterwards Peter came in and sat down on his bed and began to smoke without a word.
“Had a good time?” ses Ginger.
“Rippin',” ses Peter, holding 'is pipe tight between 'is teeth. “You owe me 'arf a dollar, Ginger.”
“Where'd you go?” ses Ginger, passing it over.
“Crystal Pallis,” ses Peter.
“Are you going to take 'er out to-morrow?” ses Sam.
“I don't think so,” ses Peter, taking 'is pipe out of 'is mouth and yawning. “She's rather too young for me; I like talking to gals wot's a bit older. I won't stand in Ginger's way.”