He paused again.
“Nagging in your sleep,” he repeated.
There was no reply.
“Two hours!” he said, invitingly; “two whole hours, without a stop.”
“I 'ope it done you good,” retorted his wife. “I noticed you did wipe one foot when you come in to-night.”
Mr. Jobling denied the charge hotly, and, by way of emphasizing his denial, raised his foot and sent the mat flying along the passage. Honor satisfied, he returned to the door-post and, looking idly out on the street again, exchanged a few desultory remarks with Mr. Joe Brown, who, with his hands in his pockets, was balancing himself with great skill on the edge of the curb opposite.
His gaze wandered from Mr. Brown to a young and rather stylishly-dressed woman who was approaching—a tall, good-looking girl with a slight limp, whose hat encountered unspoken feminine criticism at every step. Their eyes met as she came up, and recognition flashed suddenly into both faces.
“Fancy seeing you here!” said the girl. “Well, this is a pleasant surprise.”
She held out her hand, and Mr. Jobling, with a fierce glance at Mr. Brown, who was not behaving, shook it respectfully.
“I'm so glad to see you again,” said the girl; “I know I didn't thank you half enough the other night, but I was too upset.”