I 'ope you won't
be handy."

He took Gerty's photygraph out of 'is box and handed it to George.
"You've got more right to it now than wot I 'ave," he ses. "I shan't go
round there any more; I shall look out for a ship to-morrow."

George Crofts said that perhaps it was the best thing he could do, and 'e
asked 'im in a offhand sort o' way 'ow long the room was paid up for.

Mrs. Mitchell 'ad a few words to say about it next day, but Gerty told
'er to save 'er breath for walking upstairs. The on'y thing that George
didn't like when they went out was that young Ted was with them, but
Gerty said she preferred it till she knew 'im better; and she 'ad so much
to say about his noble behaviour in saving life that George gave way.
They went out looking at the shops, George thinking that that was the
cheapest way of spending an evening, and they were as happy as possible
till Gerty saw a brooch she liked so much in a window that he couldn't
get 'er away.

"It is a beauty," she ses. "I don't know when I've seen a brooch I liked
better. Look here! Let's all guess the price and then go in and see
who's right."

They 'ad their guesses, and then they went in and asked, and as soon as
Gerty found that it was only three-and-sixpence she began to feel in her
pocket for 'er purse, just like your wife does when you go out with 'er,
knowing all the time that it's on the mantelpiece with twopence-ha'penny
and a cough lozenge in it.

"I must ha' left it at 'ome," she ses, looking at George.

"Just wot I've done," ses George, arter patting 'is pockets.

Gerty bit 'er lips and, for a minute or two, be civil to George she could
not. Then she gave a little smile and took 'is arm agin, and they walked
on talking and laughing till she turned round of a sudden and asked a big
chap as was passing wot 'e was shoving 'er for.

"Shoving you?" ses he. "Wot do you think I want to shove you for?"

"Don't you talk to me," ses Gerty, firing up. "George, make 'im beg my
pardon."

"You ought to be more careful," ses George, in a gentle sort o' way.

"Make 'im beg my pardon," ses Gerty, stamping 'er foot; "if he don't,
knock 'im down."

"Yes, knock 'im down," ses the big man, taking hold o' George's cap and
rumpling his 'air.

Pore George, who was never much good with his fists, hit 'im in the
chest, and the next moment he was on 'is back in the middle o' the road
wondering wot had 'appened to 'im. By the time 'e got up the other man