'I 'ad an accident last night,' answered the woman, blushing uneasily.

'Oh, I am sorry! Wot did yer do to yerself?'

'I fell against the coal-scuttle and cut my 'ead open.'

'Well, I never!'

'To tell yer the truth, I 'ad a few words with my old man. But one
doesn't like them things to get abaht; yer won't tell anyone, will
yer?'

'Not me!' answered Liza. 'I didn't know yer husband was like thet.'

'Oh, 'e's as gentle as a lamb when 'e's sober,' said Mrs. Stanley,
apologetically. 'But, Lor' bless yer, when 'e's 'ad a drop too much
'e's a demond, an' there's no two ways abaht it.'

'An' you ain't been married long neither?' said Liza.

'Na, not above eighteen months; ain't it disgriceful? Thet's wot the
doctor at the 'orspital says ter me. I 'ad ter go ter the 'orspital.
You should have seen 'ow it bled!--it bled all dahn' my fice, and went
streamin' like a bust waterpipe. Well, it fair frightened my old man,
an' I says ter 'im, "I'll charge yer," an' although I was bleedin'
like a bloomin' pig I shook my fist at 'im, an' I says, "I'll charge
ye--see if I don't!" An' 'e says, "Na," says 'e, "don't do thet, for
God's sike, Kitie, I'll git three months." "An' serve yer damn well
right!" says I, an' I went aht an' left 'im. But, Lor' bless yer, I
wouldn't charge 'im! I know 'e don't mean it; 'e's as gentle as a lamb