and by she tries a little cough.

I got up very slow then, and, arter looking all round at the evening,
without seeing 'er, I was just going to step inside and shut the wicket,
when she came closer.

"Bill!" she ses, in a choking sort o' voice.

"Bill!"

I gave her a look that made her catch 'er breath, and I was just stepping
through the wicket, when she laid hold of my coat and tried to hold me
back.

"Do you know wot you're a-doing of?" I ses, turning on her.

"Oh, Bill dear," she ses, "don't talk to me like that. Do you want to
break my 'art? Arter all these years!"

She pulled out a dirt-coloured pocket-'ankercher and stood there dabbing
her eyes with it. One eye at a time she dabbed, while she looked at me
reproachful with the other. And arter eight dabs, four to each eye, she
began to sob as if her 'art would break.

"Go away," I ses, very slow. "You can't stand making that noise outside
my wharf. Go away and give somebody else a treat."

Afore she could say anything the potman from the Tiger, a nasty ginger-
'aired little chap that nobody liked, come by and stopped to pat her on
the back.