“Let’s ha’e a kiss.”
Quite unresisting she yielded him her mouth, looking at him intently with her bright brown eyes. He kissed her, and pressed her closely to him.
“I’m going to marry thee,” he said.
“Go on!” she replied, softly, half glad, half doubtful.
“I am an’ all,” he repeated, pressing her more tightly to him.
I went down the passage, and stood in the open doorway looking out into the night. It seemed a long time. Then I heard the thin voice of the old woman at the top of the stairs:
“Meg! Meg! Send ’im off now. Come on!”
In the silence that followed there was a murmur of voices, and then they came into the passage.
“Good-night, my lad, good luck to thee!” cried the voice like a ghoul from upper regions.
He kissed his betrothed a rather hurried goodnight at the door.
“Good-night,” she replied, softly, watching him retreat. Then we heard her shoot the heavy bolts.
“You know,” he began, and he tried to clear his throat. His voice was husky and strangulated with excitement. He tried again:
“You know—she—she’s a clinker.”
I did not reply, but he took no notice.
“Damn!” he ejaculated. “What did I let her go for!”
We walked along in silence—his excitement abated somewhat.
“It’s the way she swings her body—an’ the curves
