In my trouble I felt the need of advice; and Minikin, though my junior, was, I knew, far more experienced in worldly affairs than I was. “That's not the worst,” I confided to him. “What do you think I've done?” “Killed a policeman?” suggested Minikin. “Got myself engaged.” “No one like you quiet fellows for going it when you do begin,” commented Minikin. “Nice girl?” “I don't know,” I answered. “I only know I don't want her. How can I get out of it?” Minikin removed his left eye and commenced to polish it upon his handkerchief, a habit he had when in doubt. From looking into it he appeared to derive inspiration. “Take-her-own-part sort of a girl?” I intimated that he had diagnosed Miss Rosina Sellars correctly. “Know how much you're earning?” “She knows I live up here in this attic and do my own cooking,” I answered. Minikin glanced round the room. “Must be fond of you.” “She thinks I'm clever,” I explained, “and that I shall make my way. “And she's willing to wait?” I nodded. “Well, I should let her wait,” replied Minikin, replacing his eye. “There's plenty of time before you.” “But she's a barmaid, and she'll expect me to walk with her, to take her out on Sundays, to go and see her friends. I can't do it. Besides, she's right: I mean to get on. Then she'll stick to me. It's awful!” “How did it happen?” asked Minikin. “I don't know,” I replied. “I didn't know I had done it till it was over.” “Anybody present?” “Half-a-dozen of them,” I groaned. The door opened, and Jarman entered; he never troubled to knock anywhere. In place of his usual noisy greeting, he crossed in silence and shook me gravely by the hand. “Friend of yours?” he asked, indicating Minikin. I introduced them to each other. “Proud to meet you,” said Jarman. “Glad to hear it,” said Minikin. “Don't look as if you'd got much else to be stuck up about.” “Don't mind him,” I explained to Jarman. “He was born like it.” “Wonderful gift” replied Jarman. “D'ye know what I should do if I 'ad it?” He did not wait for Minikin's reply. “'Ire myself out to break up evening parties. Ever thought of it seriously?” Minikin replied that he would give the idea consideration. “Make your fortune going round the suburbs,” assured him Jarman. “Pity you weren't 'ere last night,” he continued; “might 'ave saved our young friend 'ere a deal of trouble. Has 'e told you the news?” I explained that I had already put Minikin in possession of all the facts. “Now you've got a good, steady eye,” said Jarman, upon whom Minikin, according to his manner, had fixed his glass orb; “'ow d'ye think 'e is looking?” “As well as can be expected under the circumstances, don't you think?” answered Minikin. “Does 'e know the circumstances? Has 'e seen the girl?” asked Jarman. I replied he had not as yet enjoyed that privilege. “Then 'e don't know the worst,” said Jarman. “A hundred and sixty pounds of 'er, and still growing! Bit of a load for 'im, ain't it?”