“They got off. Didn't you see 'em?” he ses.
“No,” ses Sam, “I'll swear they didn't.”
“Well, it's my mistake, I s'pose,” ses Peter's uncle. “But you get off home; I'm not tired yet, and I'll walk.”
Sam said 'e wasn't very tired, and he walked along wondering whether Mr. Goodman was quite right in his 'ead. For one thing, 'e seemed upset about something or other, and kept taking little peeps at 'im in a way he couldn't understand at all.
“It was nice tea we 'ad this arternoon,” ses Mr. Goodman at last.
“De-licious,” ses Sam.
“Trust a teetotaller for knowing good tea,” ses Mr. Goodman. “I expect Peter enjoyed it. I s'pose 'e is a very strict teetotaller?”
“Strict ain't the word for it,” ses Sam, trying to do 'is duty by Peter. “We all are.”
“That's right,” ses Mr. Goodman, and he pushed his 'at back and looked at Sam very serious. They walked on a bit further, and then Peter's uncle stopped sudden just as they was passing a large public-'ouse and looked at Sam.
“I don't want Peter to know, 'cos it might alarm 'im,” he ses, “but I've come over a bit faint. I'll go in 'ere for 'arf a minnit and sit down. You'd better wait outside.”