'Ketch 'old of 'im!' he thought.

'With these low fellers there's nothin' else to be done.

Ketch 'old of 'im until he squeals.' Nodding his ancient head, he said: "Here's an orficer.

I shan't speak for yer; you deserves all you'll get, and more." Later, dressed in an old Newmarket coat, given him by some client, and walking towards the police-station alongside Mrs.Hughs, he was particularly silent, presenting a front of some austerity, as became a man mixed up in a low class of incident like this.

And the seamstress, very thin and scared, with her wounded wrist slung in a muffler of her husband's, and carrying the baby on her other arm, because the morning's incident had upset the little thing, slipped along beside him, glancing now and then into his face.
Only once did he speak, and to himself: "I don't know what they'll say to me down at the orffice, when I go again-missin' my day like this! Oh dear, what a misfortune! What put it into him to go on like that ?" At this, which was far from being intended as encouragement, the waters of speech broke up and flowed from Mrs.Hughs.She had only told Hughs how that young girl had gone, and left a week's rent, with a bit of writing to say she wasn't coming back; it wasn't her fault that she was gone--that ought never to have come there at all, a creature that knew no better than to come between husband and wife.