n''t you, Mr Ibbs? And here am I. I''ve been waiting for you, hardest of all. Dear me, how hard it has been.''
She sighs. The boy looks up at her and scowls. ''Jigger me,'' he says, ''if I know which way the wind is blowing now.'' He nods to me. ''Ain''t she meant to be''—he hugs his arms about himself, shows his tongue, lets his eyes roll—''on a violent ward?''
The woman lifts her arm, and he winks and draws back. ''You watch your face,'' she says savagely. And then, gazing gently at me: ''Miss Lilly is throwing in her fortunes with ours. Miss Lilly
don''t know her own mind just yet—as who would, in her place? Miss Lilly, I daresay you ain''t had a morsel of food in hours. What we got, that will tempt you?'' She rubs her hands together. ''Should you care for a mutton chop? A piece of Dutch cheese? A supper of fish? We got a stall on the corner, sells any kind of fish—you name me the breed, Dainty shall slip out, bring it back, fry it up, quick as winking. What shall it be? We got china plates, look, fit for royalty. We got silver forks— Mr Ibbs, pass me one of them forks. See here, dear. A little rough about the handle, ain''t it? Don''t mind it, darling. That''s where we takes the crest off. Feel the weight of it, though. Ain''t them prongs very shapely? There''s a Member of Parliament had his mouth about those. Shall it be fish, dear? Or the
chop?''