'Oh, yes; there's my sister-in-law; she's asked me times without number to come and stay with her till things got better, and she's got a hard enough struggle herself, Lord knows. She asked me again only yesterday.'
'Well, that ain't too bad,' reflected Bill. 'Why don't you go?'
'Well, you see, if I did they wouldn't let me take my furniture, and she's got next to none.'
'Won't the landlord let you take your furniture?'
'No, not him! He's one of the hardest landlords in Sydney―the worst I ever had.'
'That's red-hot!…I'd take it in spite of him. He can't do nothing.'
'But I daren't; and even if I did I haven't got a penny to pay for a van.'
They neared the alley. Bill counted the flag-stones, stepping from one to another over the joints. 'Eighteen―nineteen―twenty twenty-one!' he counted mentally, and came to the corner kerbing. Then he turned suddenly and faced her.
'I'll tell you what to do,' he said decidedly, 'Can you get your things ready by to-night? I know a cove that's got a cart.'
'But I daren't. I'm afraid of the landlord.'
'The more fool you,' said Bill. 'Well, I'm not afraid of him. He can't do nothin'. I'm not afraid of a landlady, and that's worse. I know the law. He can't do nothin'. You just do as I tell you.'
'I'd want to think over it first, and see my sister in law.'
'Where does your sister-'n-law live?'
