"You've got it," said Dawes, "an' I reckon Morelly had it an' all."
"Well, I'll be jiggered!" said the mutual friend. "An' was it a proper
tart?"
"Tart, God blimey--yes!"
"How do you know?"
"Oh," said Dawes, "I reckon he spent th' night--"
There was a good deal of laughter at Paul's expense.
"But who WAS she? D'you know her?" asked the mutual friend.
"I should SHAY SHO," said Dawes.
This brought another burst of laughter.
"Then spit it out," said the mutual friend.
Dawes shook his head, and took a gulp of beer.
"It's a wonder he hasn't let on himself," he said. "He'll be braggin' of
it in a bit."
"Come on, Paul," said the friend; "it's no good. You might just as well
own up."
"Own up what? That I happened to take a friend to the theatre?"
"Oh well, if it was all right, tell us who she was, lad," said the
friend.
"She WAS all right," said Dawes.
Paul was furious. Dawes wiped his golden moustache with his fingers,
sneering.
"Strike me--! One o' that sort?" said the mutual friend.
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