I gave way at last, and he put his 'and in 'is trouser-pocket for the
key, and then found it wasn't there.

"I must ha' left it in my chest," he ses. "I'll 'op back and get it."
And afore I could prevent 'im he 'ad waved his 'and at me and gorn.

My fust idea was to go arter 'im, but I knew I couldn't catch 'im, and if
I tried to meet 'im coming back I should most likely miss 'im through the
side streets. So I sat there with my pipe and waited.

I suppose I 'ad been sitting down waiting for him for about ten minutes,
when a couple o' sailormen came into the bar and began to make themselves
a nuisance. Big fat chaps they was, and both of 'em more than 'arf
sprung. And arter calling for a pint apiece they began to take a little
notice of me.

"Where d'you come from?" ses one of 'em. "'Ome," I ses, very quiet.

"It's a good place--'ome," ses the chap, shaking his 'ead. "Can you sing
"Ome, Sweet 'Ome'? You seem to 'ave got wot I might call a 'singing
face.'"

"Never mind about my face," I ses, very sharp. "You mind wot you're
doing with that beer. You'll 'ave it over in a minute."

The words was 'ardly out of my mouth afore 'e gave a lurch and spilt his
pint all over me. From 'ead to foot I was dripping with beer, and I was
in such a temper I wonder I didn't murder 'im; but afore I could move
they both pulled out their pocket-'ankerchers and started to rub me down.