"He don't mean nothing," said Mrs. Silk, turning a rather scared face to
the steward. "'E's a bit jealous of you, I s'pose."

Mr. Wilks shook his head. Truth to tell, he was rather at a loss to know
exactly what had happened.

"And then there's 'is love affair," sighed Mrs. Silk. "He'll never get
over the loss of Amelia Kybird. I always know when 'e 'as seen her, he's
that miserable there's no getting a word out of 'im."

Mr. Wilks smiled vaguely and went on with his supper, and, the meal
finished, allowed himself to be installed in an easy-chair, while his
hostess cleared the table. He sat and smoked in high good humour with
himself, the occasional remarks he made being received with an enthusiasm
which they seldom provoked elsewhere.

"I should like t' sit 'ere all night," he said, at last.

"I don't believe it," said Mrs. Silk, playfully.

"Like t' sit 'ere all night," repeated Mr. Wilks, somewhat sternly. "All
nex' day, all day after, day after that, day----"

Mrs. Silk eyed him softly. "Why would you like to sit here all that
time?" she inquired, in a low voice.

"B'cause," said Mr. Wilks, simply, "b'cause I don't feel's if I can
stand. Goo'-night."