His eye brightened, and, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, he crossed to the tap and washed his face.
"If he can't lend a trifle to the man what's going to be his father-in-law," he said, cheerfully, as he polished his face on a roller-towel, "I shall tell 'im he can't have Selina, that's all.

I'll go and see 'im afore she gets any more out of him." He walked blithely up the road, and, after shaking off one or two inquirers whose curiosity was almost proof against insult, made his way to Dialstone Lane.

In an unobtrusive fashion he glided round to the back, and, opening the kitchen door, bestowed a beaming smile upon the startled Joseph.
"Busy, my lad ?" he inquired.
"What d'ye want ?" asked Mr.Tasker, whose face was flushed with cooking.
Mr.Vickers opened the door a little wider, and, stepping inside, closed it softly behind him and dropped into a chair.
"Don't be alarmed, my lad," he said, benevolently.

"Selina's all right." "What d'ye want ?" repeated Mr.Tasker.

"Who told you to come round here ?" Mr.Vickers looked at him in reproachful surprise.
"I suppose a father can come round to see his future son-in-law ?" he said, with some dignity.