It was over a week afore he felt ’e could risk letting Miss Tucker see ’im, and then at seven o’clock one evening he felt ’e couldn’t wait any longer, and arter spending an hour cleaning ’imself he started out for the Jolly Pilots.
He felt so ’appy at the idea o’ seeing her agin that ’e forgot all about Bill Lumm, and it gave ’im quite a shock when ’e saw ’im standing outside the Pilots. Bill took his ’ands out of ’is pockets when he saw ’im and came toward ’im.
“It’s no good to-night, mate,” he ses; and to Ginger’s great surprise shook ’ands with ’im.
“No good?” ses Ginger, staring.
“No,” ses Bill; “he’s in the little back-parlour, like a whelk in ’is shell; but we’ll ’ave ’im sooner or later.”
“Him? Who?” ses Ginger, more puzzled than ever.
“Who?” ses Bill; “why, Webson, the landlord. You don’t mean to tell me you ain’t heard about it?”
“Heard wot?” ses Ginger. “I haven’t ’eard anything. I’ve been indoors with a bad cold all the week.”