“Well,” said Ford, suddenly, “time`s short, an` this ain`t business. I won`t be `ard on you, matey. I ought prop`ly to stand on my rights, but seein` as you`re a well-meanin` young man, so to speak, an` all settled an` a-livin e`re quiet an` matrimonual, I`ll”—this with a burst of generosity—“damme, yus, I`ll compound the felony, an` take me `ook. Come, I`ll name a figure, as man to man, fust an` last, no less an1 no more. Five pound does it.”Simmons hadn`t five pounds—he hadn`t even five pence—and he said so. “An` I wouldn`t think for to come between a man an` `is wife,” he added, “not on no account. It may be rough on me, but it`s a dootv. I`ll `ook it.”“No,” said Ford, hastily, clutching Simmons by the arm, “dont` do that. I`ll make it a bit cheaper. Say three quid—come, that`s reason-able, ain`t it ? Three quid ain`t much compensation for me goin` away forever—where the stormy winds do blow, so to say—an` never as much as seein` me own wife agin for better nor wuss. Between man an` man now—three quid; an` I`ll shunt. That`s fair, ain`t it?”“Of course it`s fair,” Simmons replied, effusively. “It`s more`n fair; it`s noble—downright noble, I call it. But I ain`t goin` to take a mean advantage o` your good-`artedness, Mr. Ford. She`s your wife, an` I oughtn`t to `a` come between you. I apologize. You stop an` `ave yer proper rights. It`s me as ought to shunt, an` I will.” And he made a step toward the door.“ `Old on,” quoth Ford, and got between Simmons and the door;“Don`t do things rash. Look wot a loss it`ll be to you with no `ome to go to, an` nobody to look after ye, an` all that. It`ll be dreadful. Say a couple—there, we won`t quarrel, jest a single quid, between man an` man, an` I`ll stand a pot o` the money. You can easy raise a quid—the clock `ud pretty nigh do it. A quid does it; an` I`ll”There was a loud double-knock at the front door. In the East End a double-knock is always for the upstairs lodgers.“Oo`s that?” asked Bob Ford, apprehensively.“I`ll see,” said Thomas Simmons in reply, and he made a rush for the staircase.Remembered female Bob Ford heard him open the front door. Then he went to the window, and just below him, he saw the crown of a bonnet. It vanished, and borne to him from within the door there fell upon his ear the sound of a well-remembered female voice.“Where ye goin` now with no `at?” asked the voice, sharply.“Awright, `Anner—there`s—there`s somebody upstairs to see you,” Simmons answered. And, as Bob Ford could see, a man went scuttling down the street in the gathering dusk. And behold, it was Thomas Simmons.Ford reached the landing in three strides. His wife was still at the front door, staring after Simmons. He flung into the back room, threw open the window, dropped from the wash-house roof into the back-yard, scrambled desperately over the fence, and disappeared into the gloom. He was seen by no living soul. And that is why Simmons`s base desertion—under his wife`s very eyes, too—-is still an astonishment to the neighbors.
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