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Geoff don't! Geoff ain't that kind."
"He don't, eh? Well, what about all this talk that's goin' on--about him
an' her, an' her an' him--eh?"
"What talk?" demanded Spike, suddenly troubled.
"Why, every one's beginnin' t' notice as they're always meetin' on th'
stairs--an' him goin' into her flat, an' them talkin' an' laughin'
together when you're out o' th' way--ah," growled M'Ginnis, between
grinding white teeth, "an' likely as not kissin' an' squeezin' in
corners--"
"That's enough--that's enough!" cried the boy, fronting M'Ginnis,
fierce-eyed. "Nobody ain't goin' t' speak about Hermy that way."
"Y' can't help it, Kid. Here's this guy Geoff, this pal o' yours--been
with her--in her flat with her, all th' mornin'--ain't he, Soapy?"
"'S' right, Kid!" nodded that pallid individual, the smouldering
cigarette a-swing between pale lips; and, though he addressed Spike, his
furtive eyes, watching aslant between narrowed lids, glittered to behold
M'Ginnis's scowling brow; also the wolverine mouth curled faintly, so
that the pendulous cigarette stirred and quivered.


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