Just before closing time he reached it. One end of the bar was full of cloggers, to whom Wigan Joe was reeling off Lancashire stories. The other was unusually empty, for the Gunner and most of his company had left the house for want, perhaps, of Mick Connor, who was their principal entertainer. Susie stood behind the counter at the deserted end of the bar swilling dirty glasses, wiping them one after another, and listening all the time to the clogger’s stories, many of which she had heard before the same evening, since Wigan Joe had a way of running through his repertoire and beginning again like an automatic musical-box when the liquor was in him. As Abner entered the bar Mr Hind appeared in the door of the kitchen. ‘I’m goin’ up, Susie,’ he said with a jerk of his head in the direction of the staircase. ‘Two minutes to go, and then lock up.’ She said, ‘All right, dad,’ carelessly, never looking at him, for her eyes were on Abner. ‘Night, all!’ Mr Hind muttered as he disappeared. Abner went straight up to her. The mood of physical triumph and elation was still on him, and she must have known that there was something strange about him since, for the first time, she lowered her eyes. ‘I want a word with you, Susie,’ he said, addressing her thus for the first time. ‘Best hurry up, then,’ she said, smiling. ‘It’s only two minutes afore we close. What are you taking?’ ‘Give us a double gin,’ he said, and while she poured the limpid spirit into a clean glass he asked her what she was doing on Sunday afternoon. She wouldn’t answer him. ‘Look what good measure I’ve given you,’ she said, handing him his glass. He put the drink down on the counter. ‘You’re not goin’ to put me off like that,’ he said. She murmured something about Mr Badger. ‘Damn you and your Badgers,’ he said. ‘What about to-night, then?’ ‘Oh, don’t be soft! Look at the time. It’s just on ten.’ ‘Get on with you! The time don’t matter.’ ‘No, I couldn’t,’ she said. ‘Of course I couldn’t. Father’s gone upstairs.’ The clock struck ten. Susie called, ‘Time, please!’ and the cloggers rose to go in the middle of one of Wigan Joe’s most complicated stories. They moved toward the door in a bunch, bidding good-night to Susie, who stood waiting with the key in her hand. Abner stayed by the bar finishing his gin. The last good-nights echoed down the street. Susie stood at the open door waiting for him. ‘Come on, do!’ she said. ‘It’s after time.’ ‘Why shouldn’t I stay here?’ he said, with a laugh. ‘You know as well as I do why,’ she said, with a managing air. ‘That new policeman, Bastard’s got eyes like a weasel.’ ‘Is that all?’ he asked. ‘Yes, of course that’s all.’ He came to the door and quickly closed it, then took her in his arms and kissed her. She returned his kisses. ‘Leave go of me now,’ she whispered. ‘Go out in the lane while I lock up and then come round to the back door, but don’t make too much row about it.’ ‘Yo’m not codding me?’