<h2><SPAN name="page268"></SPAN><span class="pagenum"></span>XXXIV.</h2>
<p>“<i>Oh</i>, <i>give us some time to blow the man
down</i>!” roared Mr. Bushell, splashing and puffing amid
much yellow soap and cold water in the wash-house, whither he had
gone for a wash, on coming home from his tug. The voice
thundered and rolled through the house, and on the first floor,
strangers not used to it grew muddled in their conversation.</p>
<blockquote><p>“Blow the man down, bully, blow the man
down—<br/>
To my
Aye! Aye! Blow the man down!<br/>
Singapore Harbour to gay London town—<br/>
Oh, give us some time to blow the man down!”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Up on the first floor landing, “A-a-ah! pore
dears!” said Mrs. Bushell, fat and sympathetic, looking up
at Johnny, with her head aside and her hands clasped.
“Pore dears! No, nobody shan’t disturb
’em! Lor, ’ow I do feel for ’em;
an’ you too, Mr. May. Lucky you’re growed up to
be a comfort to yer pore mar! There—I won’t say
nothin’ about yer father! Runnin’ away so
disgraceful an’ all. But I can’t think what
parents is comin’ to, some of ’em.
There’s the pore gal as is leavin’ the other two
rooms o’ Monday, now—sich a quiet, <SPAN name="page269"></SPAN><span class="pagenum">p.
269</span>well-be’aved young lady; we wouldn’t
’a’ let ’em stop a week if it wasn’t for
’er sake, bein’ so ’ard to find a respectable
lodgin’s with sich a mother. But
there—’er mother worries the pore thing’s life
out—alwis drinkin’—an’ now she’s
akchally in gaol for breakin’ a public-’ouse
winder! An’ I sez—”</p>
<p>“Public-house window!” Johnny’s breath came
short and thick. “What’s her name?”</p>
<p>“P’raps I shouldn’t ’a’
mentioned it to a stranger, but lor, I don’t s’pose
you know ’er, an’ it’s Sansom.
But—”</p>
<p>“Where is she? Show me! In here? Is
she in now?” Johnny made dashes at divers
door-handles with one hand, while Mrs. Bushell, confounded and
scandalised, restrained him desperately by the opposite
arm. It took some impatient moments to make it plain to the
landlady that he intended no violent assault, nor, on
consideration, even the rudeness of dashing into a lady’s
rooms unannounced. Whereupon Mrs. Bushell went to a door
and knocked, Johnny close at her heels. And presently the
door opened.</p>
<p>“Nora!”</p>
<p>“Oh Johnny, Johnny, I wish you hadn’t! . . . We
shall only—” But with that the words died on
the breast of Johnny’s coat. Mrs. Bushell’s
eyes opened round, and then her mouth; and then Mrs. Bushell went
off very quietly downstairs—eyes and mouth and face <SPAN name="page270"></SPAN><span class="pagenum"></span>all
round—and out into the wash-house; and “Blow the Man
Down” stopped in the middle.</p>
<p>“Oh, but you know what I said, Johnny! We
can’t—you know we can’t!”</p>
<p>“Nonsense! I shan’t let you go now.
I’ve got a disreputable mother now—or so they
say. Have you heard of yours—since?”</p>
<p>“She’s in the infirmary—very bad.
Something’s been forming on the liver for years, the doctor
says; and when she couldn’t get anything to drink she broke
down at once. But what did you say about your
mother?”</p>
<p>Johnny told her the tale. “And now,” he
added in the end, “she’s in there, worn out an’
broken down, an’ not a woman in the world to comfort her
but my sister. Come in, an’ help.” And
they went in together.</p>
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