Apparently satisfied with his aspect, which was a little more villainous than usual, Mr Jarker turned his attention to the child, who crouched in a corner of the room with a piece of bread in her hand, watching him with her large blue eyes, very round and staring, but evidently pressing her little self as far away from the fellow as possible. "Ah! and so she comes and plays with the kid when I'm out, does she?" said Mr Jarker, in a ruminating tone. "Ah! we knows what that means, my chicking, don't we?" The little thing pressed herself closer to the wall, and Mr Jarker stood very thoughtfully at the window for a few minutes, gazing down at where Lucy's sewing-machine beat rapidly; but Mr Jarker was not aware that in his turn Jean Marais was watching him fiercely, his dark eyes seeming to flash beneath his overhanging penthouse brows, as he eagerly scanned every motion of the ruffian, looking the while as if prepared to spring across the court at his throat. "Ah! we knows what that means, don't we, my chicking?" repeated Mr Jarker, turning once more from the window. "Come here to yer daddy, d'yer hear!" But though hearing plainly enough, the little thing only shrank back closer into her corner; when, with an oath, the fellow took two steps forward and seized the little thing by its pinky shelly ear, and dragged it, whimpering and trembling, into the middle of the attic, where he made "an offer" at it as if to strike, but the frailty and helplessness of the little one disarmed even him, and as his eyes wandered to the window to see that no opposite neighbour could watch them where they stood, his arm fell to his side as he sat down. "Now, then!" cried Mr Jarker, "no pipin'; don't you try none of them games with me, my young warmin'. 'Cos why, it's ware hawks to yer if yer does. Now hook it back to that there corner." The child's eyes were turned timidly and wonderingly up to his, as it shrank back once more to the corner of the attic. "Now, then!" cried Jarker sharply, "come here again."