Bob kept kicking the wall, first with one heel, then with the other.
He whistled a few bars of the last song he had learnt at the
music-hall.

'Say, Penny,' he remarked at length, with something of
shamefacedness, 'there's a namesake of mine here as I shan't miss,
if you can do any good with it.'

He held a shilling towards her under his hand. Pennyloaf turned
away, casting down her eyes and looking troubled.

'We can get on for a bit,' she said indistinctly.

Bob returned the coin to his pocket. He whistled again for a moment,
then asked abruptly:

'Say! have you seen Clem again?'

'No,' replied the girl, examining him with sudden acuteness. 'What
about her?'

'Nothing much. She's got her back up a bit, that's all.'

'About me?' Pennyloaf asked anxiously.

Bob nodded. As he was making some further remarks on the subject, a
man's figure appeared at a little distance, and almost immediately
withdrew again round a winding of the Passage. A moment after there
sounded from that direction a shrill whistle. Bob and the girl
regarded each other.