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Ravenslee
forthwith proceeded to attack with surprising appetite and gusto.
"Is it tender?" enquired Mrs. Trapes anxiously. "Heaven pity that
butcher if it ain't! Is it tasty, kind of?"
"It's delicious," nodded her lodger. "Really, Hell's Kitchen seems to
suit me; I eat and sleep like a new man!"
"So you ain't lived here long, Mr. Geoffrey?" queried Mrs. Trapes,
eagle-eyed.
"Not long enough to--er--sigh for pastures new. Don't go, Mrs. Trapes,
I love to hear folks talk; sit down and tell me tales of dead kings
and--er--I mean, converse of our neighbours, will you?"
"I will so, an' thank ye kindly, Mr. Geoffrey, if you don't mind me
sucking a occasional candy?"
"Pray do, Mrs. Trapes," he said heartily; whereupon, having fetched her
chocolates, Mrs. Trapes ensconced herself in the easy chair and opening
the box, viewed its contents with glistening eyes.
"You're an Englishman, ain't you?" she enquired after a while, munching
luxuriously.
"No, but my mother was born in England."
"You don't say!" exclaimed Mrs.


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