choking noise to them as likes it."

"It's a bit o' egg-shell I got in my throat at break-fast this morning,
Ginger," ses Sam. "I wonder whether she lays awake all night thinking of
you?"

"I dare say she does," ses Peter Russet, giving 'im a little push.

"Keep your 'art up, Ginger," ses Sam; "I've known gals to 'ave the most
ext'ordinary likings afore now."

"Don't take no notice of 'im," ses Peter, holding Ginger back. "'Ow are
you getting on with her?"

Ginger groaned and sat down on 'is bed and looked at the floor, and Sam
went and sat on his till it shook so that Ginger offered to step over and
break 'is neck for 'im.

"I can't 'elp the bed shaking," ses Sam; "it ain't my fault. I didn't
make it. If being in love is going to make you so disagreeable to your
best friends, Ginger, you'd better go and live by yourself."

"I 'eard something about her to-day, Ginger," ses Peter Russet. "I met a
chap I used to know at Bull's Wharf, and he told me that she used to keep
company with a chap named Bill Lumm, a bit of a prize-fighter, and since
she gave 'im up she won't look at anybody else."

"Was she very fond of 'im, then?" asks Ginger.

"I don't know," ses Peter; "but this chap told me that she won't walk out