outside the shop. Might get me a bad name. Now in yer go, young 'un, an' we'll 'ave another bust next Friday, eh? I'll be seein' 'is nibs on me way 'ome."
"Good-night, dear Uncle Joe. I'm glad you're my uncle." She put her arms round his neck and kissed him, and Bindle experienced a curious sensation in his throat.
"Gawd bless yer, Millikins," Bindle mumbled in an unsteady voice, as she tripped along the passage.
"Fancy me sayin' that!" he muttered, as he closed the door. "It kind o' slipped out."
A few yards down the High Street Bindle met his brother-in-law returning from the post.
"I'm sorry, 'Earty, about that collision. It was all my fault. I like playin' wi' kids." There was an unaccustomed humility in Bindle's voice, assumed for the purpose of making things easier for Millie, that pleased Mr. Hearty.
"Millie is no longer a child, Joseph," he remarked, "but we'll say no more about it. I'm not hurt. Good-night." He bared his yellow teeth in token of forgiveness.
As he passed on, Bindle gazed up at the skies meditatively. "I wonder if Gawd really likes that sort?" he murmured with a seriousness that was unusual to him.
Outside the theatre he found waiting for him Charlie Dixon, who greeted him with:
"Will you bring her again, Mr. Bindle?"
