Julia
Hawkins--on the waterside, Hammersmith."

"Her! Not know her! Juliarawkins. Why, she's next door!"

"But do you know her--to speak to?"

"Rarther! We're on torkin terms, me and Juliar. Werry often stop I do,
to pass the time of day with Jooli_ar_." An intensification in the
accent on the name seemed to add to his claim to familiarity with its
owner. "Keeps the little tiddley-wink next door. Licensed 'ouse. That's
where they took Wix--him as got out of quod--him as come down the Court
to look up a widder."

Aunt M'riar considered a moment whether it would not be better to
instruct Micky to find out Daverill and deliver her letter to him in
person. She decided on adhering to the convict's instructions. If she
had understood his past relations with Miss Hawkins she might have
decided otherwise. She affected not to hear Micky's allusion to him,
merely enjoining the boy to hand her letter in over the bar to its
Egeria. "You won't have any call for to trouble your aunt," said she.
For she felt that the fewer the cooks, the better the broth. Questioned
as to when he would deliver the letter, Micky appeared to turn over in
his mind a voluminous register of appointments. But he could stand them
all over, to oblige, and would see if he couldn't make it convenient to
go over Sunday morning. Nothing was impossible to a good business head.

As the appointments had absolutely no existence except in his
imagination--though perhaps costermonging, at its lowest ebb, still
claimed his services--he was able to make it very convenient indeed to
visit his Aunt Elizabeth. History repeats itself, and the incident of
the half-and-half happened again, point for point, until settlement-time
came, and then a variation crept in.

"I got a letter for you, missis," said Micky.

"Sure it ain't for somebody else? Let's have a look at it."

"No 'urry! Tork it over first--that's my marxim! Look ye here. Miss
Juliar, this is my way of putting of it. Here's three-halfpence, over
the beer. Here's the corner of the letter, stickin' out of my porket.
Now which'll you have, the letter or the three-halfpence? Make your
ch'ice. All square and no deception!"

"Well--the impidence of the child! Who's to know the letter's for me
onlest I see the direction? Who gave it you to give me?"

"Miss Wardle down our Court. Same I told you of--where the old
widder-woman hangs out. Him the police are after's mother!" Micky was so
confident of the success o