Mr. Gannett took his pipe from his mouth and took his wife in his extended arms. “No, my dear,” he said brokenly, “no more than you believe all this stuff about me.”
“And I did quite right to sell it, didn’t I, Jem?”
“Quite right,” said Mr. Gannett with a great assumption of heartiness. “Best thing to do with it.”
“You haven’t heard the worst yet,” said Mrs. Gannett. “When you were at Suez—”
Mr. Gannett consigned Suez to its only rival, and thumping the table with his clenched fist, forbade his wife to mention the word again, and desired her to prepare supper.
Not until he heard his wife moving about in the kitchen below did he relax the severity of his countenance. Then his expression changed to one of extreme anxiety, and he restlessly paced the room seeking for light. It came suddenly.
“Jenkins,” he gasped, “Jenkins and Mrs. Cluffins, and I was going to tell Cluffins about him writing to his wife. I expect he knows the letter by heart.”
MONEY CHANGERS
Tain’t no use waiting any longer,” said Harry Pilchard, looking over the side of the brig towards the Tower stairs. “’E’s either waiting for the money or else ’e’s a-spending of it. Who’s coming ashore?”
“Give ’im another five minutes, Harry,” said another seaman persuasively; “it ’ud be uncommon ’ard on ’im if ’e come aboard and then ’ad to go an’ get another ship’s crew to ’elp ’im celebrate it.”