"I thought you seemed a bit tired," ses Ginger, arter waiting a long
time.

"I'm not tired," ses the gal, giving 'im a sad sort o' little smile,
"but I'm a little bit worried, that's all."

"Worried?" ses Ginger, very tender. "Wot's worrying you?"

"Oh, I can't tell you," ses Miss Gill. "It doesn't matter; I'll try and
cheer up. Wot a lovely day it is, isn't it? I shall remember it all my
life."

"Wot is it worrying you?" ses Ginger, in a determined voice. "Can't
you tell me?"

"No," ses the gal, shaking her 'ead, "I can't tell you because you might
want to 'elp me, and I couldn't allow that."

"Why shouldn't I 'elp you?" ses Ginger. "It's wot we was put 'ere for:
to 'elp one another."

"I couldn't tell you," ses the gal, just dabbing at'er eyes--with a lace
pocket-'ankercher about one and a 'arf times the size of 'er nose.

"Not if I ask you to?" ses Ginger.

Miss Gill shook 'er 'ead, and then she tried her 'ardest to turn the
conversation. She talked about the weather, and the monkey-'ouse, and a
gal in 'er street whose 'air changed from red to black in a single