noospapers."

"He's a young liar, then. Told me his name was Ikey." Miss Hawkins
pointed out that Ikey and Micky were substantially identical. But she
was unable to make the same claim for Rackstraw and Ekins, when told
that Micky had laid claim to the latter. She waived the point and
conducted the beer-bearer back the way he came, handing him the brown
jug over the wall, not to spill it.

But she suggested, in consideration of the high quality of the
half-and-half, that her next-door neighbour might oblige by stepping in
by the private entrance, to speak concerning Sapps Court and its
inhabitants; all known to her more or less, no doubt. Which Aunt
Elizabeth was glad to do, seeing that the cherry-tart was only just put
in the oven, and she could spare that few minutes without risk.

Now, this old lady, though she was but a charwoman depending for
professional engagements rather on the goodwill--for auld lang syne--of
one or two families in Chiswick, of prodigious opulence in her eyes, yet
was regarded by Sapps Court, when she visited her niece, Mrs. Rackstraw,
or Ragstroar, Michael's mother, as distinctly superior. Aunt M'riar
especially had been so much impressed with a grey shawl with fringes and
a ready cule--spelt thus by repute--which she carried when she come of a
Sunday, that she had not only asked her to tea, but had taken her to pay
a visit to Mrs. Prichard upstairs. She had also in conversation taken
Aunt Elizabeth Jane largely into her confidence about Mrs. Prichard,
repeating, indeed, all she knew of her except what related to her
convict husband. About that she kept an honourable silence.

It was creditable to Miss Juliarawkins, whose name--written as
pronounced--gives us what we contend is an innocent pleasure, that she
should have suspected the truth about Wix or Daverill's want of
shrewdness when he visited Sapps Court. She had been biased towards this
suspicion by the fact that the man, when he first referred to Sapps
Court, had spoken the name as though sure of it; and it was to test its
validity that she invited Aunt Elizabeth Jane round by the private door,
and introduced her to the darkened bar, where the ex-convict was
lighting another pipe. She had heard Mrs. Treadwell speak of Aunt
M'riar; and now, having formed a true enough image of the area of the
Court, had come to the conclusion that all its inhabitants would be
acquainted, and would talk over each other's affairs.

"Who the Hell's th