Suddenly the man looked up from his ham bone and spoke to her. "'Ow much did 'e give you for it?" said he.
The woman uttered a sequence of scalding oaths.
"The stingy swine," cried she, "'e give me a tanner; that's what 'e give me--a lousy tanner. See if I don't jolly well pop back there and 'ave a shawl's worf out of 'is stinkin' till--the stingy Jew."
"What!" said the man, evincing a sort of interest. "Are you in that line, then? Tills and ceterer?"
"I'm in any blessed line, I am," said the woman, "s' long as there's the price of a fag in it. Never 'eard o' Nottingham Kate, I suppose? That's me. I was well known in me time. 'Twas I what done that drugging affair at Weedon, when we put them orficers through it. They made a lot of that job at the time. I done five year for that."
"Well," commented Strephon, still gnawing patiently at his bone, "it ain't much to yere credit. I'm on the straight ticket meself. Per'aps if I'd knowed the sort of character you--but there: you ain't so bad as some on 'em. Harlot, or thief, or what not, you've treated me quite fair.... Gurrr! ... Christ, but it's cold!"
"Chronic!" said the woman, pressing her senseless fingers to her neck, in the way which women have.
"That 'am," reflected Strephon, "just sooted me all right. Wish I 'ad a fag now."
Without a word, the woman struggled to her feet, and descended the steps of the pedestal, half walking, half crawling, like a child. She peered into the darkness, and must have beheld a figure there; for she at once came forward, with stiff, uncertain steps, and having spoken to him, returned to her pedestal the possessor of all his cigarettes.
"Strike me now," cried Strephon, beholding her treasure with incredulous eyes; "you _are_ a deep one. You don't 'arf know the ropes. Take one yerself, won't ye?"
Chlöe took a cigarette and lighted it; but Strephon, after fumbling hopelessly with a matchbox, threw the thing away from him in petulant despair. "See here," cried he. "Look at them things, there! Them's my 'ands; was once. Look at 'em. Gawd 'elp me, look at 'em. I can't bend 'em; I can't move 'em; Gawd 'elp me, I can't ser much as lift 'em. I----"
Chide, taking the cigarette from her lips, placed it between his, which silenced them. And then she took his hands, and with a little laugh--the same old creak of a laugh--she widened the gaping juncture of her bodice, and placed his senseless hands within it, where they lay warm beside her bosom. The sudden contact of the ice-cold substance forced a little shriek from her.