in a ditch with. I can't stand rubber rings, never could. I'm not
really keen on buttonhooks. And I don't want to hurt your
feelings, but I think that squeaking bird of yours is about the
beastliest thing I ever met. So suppose I give you a shilling and
call it square, what?'

'Gawd bless yer, guv'nor.'

'Not at all. You'll be able to get those children of yours some
bread--I expect you can get a lot of bread for a shilling. Do they
really like it? Rum kids!'

And having concluded this delicate financial deal Lord Dawlish
turned, the movement bringing him face to face with a tall girl in
white.

During the business talk which had just come to an end this girl
had been making her way up the side street which forms a short cut
between Coventry Street and the Bandolero, and several admirers of
feminine beauty who happened to be using the same route had almost
dislocated their necks looking after her. She was a strikingly
handsome girl. She was tall and willowy. Her eyes, shaded by her
hat, were large and grey. Her nose was small and straight, her
mouth, though somewhat hard, admirably shaped, and she carried
herself magnificently. One cannot blame the policeman on duty in
Leicester Square for remarking to a cabman as she passed that he
envied the bloke that that was going to meet.

Bill Dawlish was this fortunate bloke, but, from the look of him
as he caught sight of her, one would have said that he did not