"'I'm a nurse, that's wot I am,' he ses, very savage. 'Just a
nursemaid. I can't move 'and or foot without that gal. 'Ow'd you like
it, yourself, Bill?'

"'It must be very orkard for you,' I ses. 'Very orkard indeed.'

"'Orkard !' he ses; 'it's no name for it, Bill. I might as well be a
Sunday-school teacher, and ha' done with it. I never 'ad such a dull
time in all my life. Never. And the worst of it is, it's spiling my
temper. And all because o' that narrer-eyed, red-chested--you know wot
I mean!'

"He took another mouthful o' beer, and then he took 'old of my arm.
'Bill,' he ses, very earnest, 'I want you to do me a favour.'

"'Go ahead,' I ses.

"'I've got to meet a pal at Charing Cross at ha'-past seven,' he ses;
'and we're going to make a night of it. I've left Winnie in charge o'
the cook, and I've told 'im plain that, if she ain't there when I come
back, I'll skin 'im alive. Now, I want you to watch 'er, too. Keep the
gate locked, and don't let anybody in you don't know. Especially that
monkey-faced imitation of a man. Here 'e is. That's his likeness.'

"He pulled a photygraph out of 'is coatpocket and 'anded it to me.

"'That's 'im,' he ses. 'Fancy a gal getting love-letters from a thing
like that! And she was on'y twenty last birthday. Keep your eye on
'er, Bill, and don't let 'er out of your sight. You're worth two o' the