no help from me. You'd like to wash your face, mebbe?"

"Yes, yes, with cold water. Give me your hand, child, and I'll get up."

"Set you still--I'll fetch the water."

She brought it in a tin pail, with a piece of flannel and soap and a
coarse towel.

"Now, wash--wash and make yourself as clean as you can--for you has
got to see summut--leastways you can take the outside dirt away; there,
make yourself clean while I lets the daylight in."

The man washed and laved himself. He was becoming gradually sober, and
Bet's words had a subduing effect; he looked after her with a certain
maudlin admiration, as she drew up the blind, and let the uncertain
daylight into the poor little room. Then she went behind the screen,
and he heard her for a moment or two moving about. He dried his face
and hands and hair and was standing up, looking comparatively fresh
and another man, when she returned to him.

"You're not a bad sort of a gel," he said, attempting to chuck her
under the chin, only she drew away from him. "You know what a man
wants, and you get it for him and don't hurl no ugly words in his face.
Well, I'm off to the docks now. I'll let the old 'ooman sleep on, this
once, and tell her what I think on her, and how much more I set store
by that daughter of hers, tonight."

"You'll let her sleep on, will you?" said Bet.