"
"Where?"
"Me chambers," grinning; "top
loft of a 'ouse in the court. If anyone
else 'd 'ave it I should be turned
out. It's an 'ole, I can tell yer--
but it 's better than sleepin' under
the bridges."
"Take me to see it," said Antony
Dart. "I want to see the girl."
The words spoke themselves. Why
should he care to see either cockloft
or girl? He did not. He wanted
to go back to his lodgings with that
which he had come out to buy.
Yet he said this thing. His
companion looked up at him with an
expression actually relieved.
"Would yer tike up with 'er?"
with eager sharpness, as if confronting
a simple business proposition.
"She's pretty an' clean, an' she
won't drink a drop o' nothin'. If
she was treated kind she'd be
cheerfler. She's got a round fice an'
light 'air an' eyes. 'Er 'air 's curly.
P'raps yer'd like 'er."
"Take me to see her."
"She'd look better to-morrow,"
cautiously, "when the swellin 's gone
down round 'er eye."
Dart started--and it was because
he had for the last five minutes forgotten
something.
"I shall not be here to-morrow,"
he said. His grasp upon the thing
in his pocket had loosened, and he
tightened it.
"I have some more money in my
purse," he said deliberately. "I
meant to give it away before going.
I want to give it to people who need
it very much."
She gave him one of the sly,
squinting glances.
"Deservin' cases?" She put it to
him in brazen mockery.
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