"I'll tell yer 'ow I come by this, if yer wait a minute." "Yer never cut yer lip lookin' at the play; yer've gone back ter the Push, as Sarah always said yer would." "I'll screw Sarah's neck when I can spare the time," said Chook, savagely.
Chook, the old-time larrikin, had turned out a model husband, but, for years after his marriage, Mrs Partridge had taken a delight in prophesying that he would soon tire of Pinkey's apron-strings and return to the Push and the streets.

And now, although Waxy Collins and Joe Crutch were in jail for sneak-thieving, their places taken by younger and more vicious scum, Pinkey thought instantly of the dread Push when Chook grew restive.
"No," said Chook, deciding to cut it short, "I tore me coat an' cut me lip gittin' away from the Johns at Paddy Flynn's alley." Pinkey turned sick with fear.

The two-up school was worse than the Push, and they were ruined.
"I knew it the moment I set eyes on yer.

Yer've been bettin' again, an' lost all yer money.

Yer've got nothing left for the markets, an' the landlord'll turn us out," she cried, seeing herself already in the gutter.
"Yes, I lost a bit, but I pulled up, an' I'm a couple of dollars to the good," said Chook, feeling in his pocket for some half-crowns.
"Well, give it to me," said Pinkey, "an' I'll go straight termorrer and pay ten shillings on a machine." "Wot would yer 'ave said if I'd won ten or fifteen quid ?" asked Chook.
"I should 'ave said 'Buy Jack Ryan's 'orse an' cart, an' never go near a two-up school again'," said Pinkey, thinking of the impossible.
"Well, I won the dollars, an' I'll do as yer say," cried Chook emptying his pockets on the counterpane.
As Chook poured the heap of gold and silver on to the bed, Pinkey gasped, and turned deadly white.