’I hove.  It’s made up ever so as to Ruby.  What sort of a one is her aunt now, squoire?’

‘She keeps lodgings;—­a very decent sort of a woman I should say.’

‘She won’t let the Baro-nite come there?’

‘Certainly not,’ said Roger, who felt that he was hardly dealing sincerely with this most sincere of meal-men.  Hitherto he had shuffled off every question that had been asked him about Felix, though he knew that Ruby had spent many hours with her fashionable lover.  ’Mrs Pipkin won’t let him come there.’

’If I was to give her a ge’own now,—­or a blue cloak;—­them lodging-house women is mostly hard put to it;—­or a chest...