“Oh, it’s just tell you, is it!  After you’ve had me knocked about and insulted by a dirty rough like that Gammon—­”

“You’ve heard me say I never thought he meant to behave so.  I wouldn’t have had it for anything.”

Whilst Mrs. Clover was speaking Gammon beckoned to the landlady, and together they retreated from the room, closing the door behind them.  On the stairs stood Mr. and Mrs. Cheeseman eager for the latest news of the fray.  At their invitation Mrs. Bubb and the hero of the evening stepped up, and for a quarter of an hour Mrs. Clover was left alone with her niece.  Then the landlady’s attention was called by a voice from below.

“I must be going, Mrs. Bubb; I’ll say good night.”

Quickly Mrs. Bubb descended; she saw at a glance that Polly’s wrath had in no degree diminished, and that Mrs. Clover was no whit easier in mind; but both had become silent.  Merely saying that she would see her hostess again before long, the lady of the china shop took a hurried leave and quitted the house.

She had walked but a few yards when Mr. Gammon’s voice sounded at her shoulder.

“I’ll see you part of the way home,” he said genially.

“I’m much obliged to you, Mr. Gammon,” was Mrs. Clover’s reply, “but I can find my own way.”

“You’ll let me see you into a ’bus, at all events.”

“Please don’t trouble; I’d much rather you didn’t.”

“Why?” asked Gammon bluntly.

“Because I had.  I’ll say good night.”

She stood still looking him in the face with cold displeasure; only for a moment though, as her eyes could not bear the honest look in his.

“Right you are,” said Gammon with affected carelessness.  “Just as you like.  I won’t force my company on anyone.”

Mrs. Clover made the movement which in women of her breeding signifies a formal bow—­hopelessly awkward, rigid, and self-conscious—­and walked rapidly away.  The man, not a little crestfallen, swung round on his heel.

“What’s wrong now?” he asked himself.  “It can t be about Minnie, for she was all right till after supper.  And why it should make her angry because I lugged that cat Polly downstairs is more than I can understand.  Well, I shan’t die of it.”

On re-entering the house he found all quiet.  Polly had returned to her chamber, Mrs. Bubb was in the Cheesemans’ room.  He went down into the kitchen, where the gas was burning, and sat till the landlady came down.

“I don’t see as you did much good,” was Mrs. Bubb’s first remark, in the tone which signifies reaction after excitement.  “It weren’t worth breaking a door in, it seems to me.”

Gammon hung his head.

“Didn’t Polly tell her anything?”

“She stuck out she knew where the ’usband was, and that’s all.”

“How do you know?”

“Polly said so as she went upstairs, and ’oped her awnt ’ud sleep well on it.”