"I nodded.

"`Well,' said the man 'Arry, pointing to the picture, `that's 'is
mother. 'Oo ran to catch 'im when 'e fell? She did,' and he flung
his fingers in a general gesture towards the photograph of the old
lady who was exactly like me.

"`Tell the old gent wot 'e's got to do and be done with it,' broke
out Bill from the door. `Look 'ere, Reverend Shorter, we ain't
goin' to do you no 'arm. We'll give you a sov. for your trouble if
you like. And as for the old woman's clothes--why, you'll look
lovely in 'em.'

"`You ain't much of a 'and at a description, Bill,' said the man
behind me. `Mr Shorter, it's like this. We've got to see this man
Hawker tonight. Maybe 'e'll kiss us all and 'ave up the champagne
when 'e sees us. Maybe on the other 'and--'e won't. Maybe 'e'll be
dead when we goes away. Maybe not. But we've got to see 'im. Now as
you know, 'e shuts 'isself up and never opens the door to a soul;
only you don't know why and we does. The only one as can ever get
at 'im is 'is mother. Well, it's a confounded funny coincidence,'
he said, accenting the penultimate, `it's a very unusual piece of
good luck, but you're 'is mother.'

"`When first I saw 'er picture,' said the man Bill, shaking his
head in a ruminant manner, `when I first saw it I said--old
Shorter. Those were my exact words--old Shorter.'

"`What do you mean, you wild creatures?' I gasped. `What am I to