Harry Chatswood took the opportunity (he had a habit of taking
opportunities of this sort) to whisper to Old Jack:

"Pay her the fourteen bob, Jack, and have done with it. She's got
the needle to-night all right, and damfiknow what for. But the sight
of your fourteen bob might bring her round." And Old Jack--as was
his way--blundered obediently and promptly right into the hole that
was shown him.

"Well, Mrs Mae," he said, getting up from the table and slipping his
hand into his pocket. "I don't know what's come over yer to-night,
but, anyway--" Here he put the money down on the table. "There's
the money I owe yer for--for---"

"For what?" she demanded, turning on him with surprising swiftness
for such a stout woman.

"The--the fourteen bob I owed for them drinks when Bill Hogan and
me---"

"You don't owe me no fourteen bob for dhrinks, you dirty blaggard!
Are ye mad? You got no drink off of me. Phwat d'ye mean?"

"Beg--beg pardin, Mrs Mac," stammered Old Jack, very much taken
aback; "but the--yer know--the fourteen bob, anyway, I owed you
when--that night when me an' Bill Hogan an' yer sister-in-law, Mary
Don---"

"What? Well, I--Git out of me house, ye low blaggard! I'm a honest,
respictable married woman, and so is me sister-in-law, Mary Donelly;