Her whole nature was now in full revolt, and quick with passionate remembrance of the injustice that had been done her, she drew back from him, her eyes flashing. Perhaps it was some passing remembrance of the breakage of the first beer-jug that prevented her from striking him with the second. The spasm passed, and then her rage, instead of venting itself in violent action, assumed the form of dogged silence. He followed her up the street, and into the bar. She handed the jug across the counter, and while the barman filled it searched in her pocket for the money. She had brought none with her. William promptly produced sixpence. Esther answered him with a quick, angry glance, and addressing the barman, she said, "I'll pay you to-morrow; that'll do, I suppose? 41 Avondale Road." "That will be all right, but what am I to do with this sixpence?" "I know nothing about that," Esther said, picking up her skirt; "I'll pay you for what I have had." Holding the sixpence in his short, thick, and wet fingers, the barman looked at William. William smiled, and said, "Well, they do run sulky sometimes." He caught at the leather strap and pulled the door open for her, and as she passed out she became aware that William still admired her. It was really too bad, and she was conscious of injustice. Having destroyed her life, this man had passed out of sight and knowledge, but only to reappear when a vista leading to a new life seemed open before her. "It was that temper of yours that did it; you wouldn't speak to me for a fortnight. You haven't changed, I can see that," he said, watching Esther's face, which did not alter until he spoke of how unhappy he had been in his marriage. "A regular brute she was--we're no longer together, you know; haven't been for the last three years; could not put up with 'er. She was that--but that's a long story." Esther did not answer him. He looked at her anxiously, and seeing that she would not be won over easily, he spoke of his money. "Look 'ere, Esther," he said, laying his hand on the area gate. "You won't refuse to come out with me some Sunday. I've a half a share in a public-house, the 'King's Head,' and have been backing winners all this year. I've plenty of money to treat you. I should like to make it up to you. Perhaps you've 'ad rather a 'ard time. What 'ave yer been doing all these years? I want to hear." "What 'ave I been doing? Trying to bring up your child! That's what I've been doing." "There's a child, then, is there?" said William, taken aback. Before he could recover himself Esther had slipped past him down the area into the house. For a moment he looked as if he were going to follow her; on second thoughts he thought he had better not. He lingered a moment and then walked slowly away in the direction of the Metropolitan Railway. "I'm sorry to 'ave kept you waiting, miss, but I met with an accident and had to come back for another jug." "And what was the accident you met with, Esther?"