Bob explained that he couldn’t say anything because ’e owed his life to George, but ’e might as well ’ave talked to a lamp-post.  The more he argued the more angry Gerty got, and at last she ses, “Two’s company and three’s none, and if you and me can’t go out without George Crofts, then me and ’im ’ll go out with-out you.”

She was as good as her word, too, and the next night, while Bob ’ad gone out to get some ’bacca, she went off alone with George.  It was ten o’clock afore they came back agin, and Gerty’s eyes were all shining and ’er cheeks as pink as roses.  She shut ’er mother up like a concertina the moment she began to find fault with ’er, and at supper she sat next to George and laughed at everything ’e said.

George and Bob walked all the way ’ome arter supper without saying a word, but arter they got to their room George took a side-look at Bob, and then he ses, suddenlike, “Look ’ere!  I saved your life, didn’t I?”

“You did,” ses Bob, “and I thank you for it.”

“I saved your life,” ses George agin, very solemn.  “If it hadn’t ha’ been for me you couldn’t ha’ married anybody.”

“That’s true,” ses Bob.

“Me and Gerty ’ave been having a talk,” ses George, bending down to undo his boots.  “We’ve been getting on very well together; you can’t ’elp your feelings, and the long and the short of it is, the pore gal has fallen in love with me.”

Bob didn’t say a word.

“If you look at it this way it’s fair enough,” ses George.  “I gave you your life and you give me your gal.  We’re quits now.  You don’t owe me anything and I don’t owe you anything.  That’s the way Gerty puts it, and she told me to tell you so.”

“If—­if she don’t want me I’m agreeable,” ses Bob, in a choking voice.  “We’ll call it quits, and next time I tumble overboard I ’ope you won’t be handy.”

He took Gerty’s photygraph out of ’is box and handed it to George.  “You’ve got more right to it now than wot I ’ave,” he ses.  “I shan’t go round there any more; I shall look out for a ship to-morrow.”

George Crofts said that perhaps it was the best thing he could do, and ’e asked ‘im in a offhand sort o’ way ’ow long the room was paid up for.

Mrs. Mitchell ’ad a few words to say about it next day, but Gerty told ’er to save ’er breath for walking upstairs.  The on’y thing that George didn’t like when they went out was that young Ted was with them, but Gerty said she preferred it till she knew ’im better; and she ’ad so much to say about his noble behaviour in saving life that George gave way.  They went out looking at the shops, George thinking that that was the cheapest way of spending an evening, and they were as happy as possible till Gerty saw a brooch she liked so much in a window that he couldn’t get ’er away.

“It is a beauty,” she ses.  “I don’t know when I’ve seen a brooch I liked better.  Look here!  Let’s all guess the price and then go in and see who’s right.”