"Say 'Thank you,' Lump, dear," said Pollyooly quickly.
The Lump said "Tank 'oo," and she drew him hastily away. She was afraid lest the sour-faced lady should violently recover the shilling.
She walked quickly, and a hundred yards farther on (well out of sight of the sour-faced one) the gentleman caught them up.
"By Jove, the way you worked it was positively a marvel!" he cried in tones of high delight. "I tell you what: where do you live? You might do another job or two like this for me. I want them doing badly."
"I'm Mr. Ruffin's housekeeper; and I live with him at Seventy-five, The King's Bench Walk in the Temple," said Pollyooly with the proper pride in her good address.
He pulled out his betting book and wrote down the address.
"I wonder if your Mr. Ruffin is the Honorable John?" he said thoughtfully. "He does live in the Temple."
"All his tradesmen call him the Honorable John Ruffin till they lose their tempers; and there's only
