'Be you a gentleman, then?'

Reddin hesitated slightly. She said it with such reverence and made it
seem so great a thing.

'Yes,' he said at last. 'Yes, that's what I am--a gentleman.' He was
conscious of bravado.

'Will there be supper, fire-hot?'

'Yes, if Vessons is in a good temper.'

'Where you bin?' she asked next.

'Market.'

'You've had about as much as is good for you,' she remarked, as if
thinking aloud.

He certainly smelt strongly of whisky.

'You've got a cheek!' said he. 'Let's look at you.'

He stared into her tired but vivid eyes for a long time, and the trap
careered from side to side.

'My word!' he said, 'I'm in luck to-night!'

'What for be you?'