"This 'ere--er--man," ses Jack Bates, pointing at Charlie, "owes me seventy-five pounds and won't pay. When I ask 'im for it he ses a party he's keeping company with, by the name of Emma Cook, 'as got it, and he can't get it." "So she has," ses Charlie, without looking up. "Wot does 'e owe you the money for?" ses Mrs. Cook. "'Cos I lent it to 'im," ses Jack. "Lent it? What for?" ses Mrs. Cook. "'Cos I was a fool, I s'pose," ses jack Bates; "a good-natured fool. Anyway, I'm sick and tired of asking for it, and if I don't get it to-night I'm going to see the police about it." He sat down on a chair with 'is hat cocked over one eye, and they all sat staring at 'im as though they didn't know wot to say next. "So this is wot you meant when you said you'd got the chance of a lifetime, is it?" ses Mrs. Cook to Charlie. "This is wot you wanted it for, is it? Wot did you borrow all that money for?" "Spend," ses Charlie, in a sulky voice. "Spend!" ses Mrs. Cook, with a scream; "wot in?" "Drink and cards mostly," ses Jack Bates, remembering wot Charlie 'ad told 'im about blackening 'is character. You might ha' heard a pin drop a'most, and Charlie sat there without saying a word. "Charlie's been led away," ses Mrs. Cook, looking 'ard at Jack Bates. "I s'pose you lent 'im the money to win it back from 'im at cards, didn't you?" "And gave 'im too much licker fust," ses old Cook. "I've 'eard of your kind. If Charlie takes my advice 'e won't pay you a farthing. I should let you do your worst if I was 'im; that's wot I should do. You've got a low face; a nasty, ugly, low face." "One o' the worst I ever see," ses Mrs. Cook. "It looks as though it might ha' been cut out o' the Police News." "'Owever could you ha' trusted a man with a face like that, Charlie?" ses old Cook. "Come away from 'im, Bill; I don't like such a chap in the room." Jack Bates began to feel very awk'ard. They was all glaring at 'im as though they could eat 'im, and he wasn't used to such treatment. And, as a matter o' fact, he'd got a very good-'arted face. "You go out o' that door," ses old Cook, pointing to it. "Go and do your worst. You won't get any money 'ere." "Stop a minute," ses Emma, and afore they could stop 'er she ran upstairs. Mrs. Cook went arter 'er and 'igh words was heard up in the bedroom, but by-and-by Emma came down holding her head very 'igh and looking at Jack Bates as though he was dirt. "How am I to know Charlie owes you this money?" she ses. Jack Bates turned very red, and arter fumbling in 'is pockets took out about a dozen dirty bits o' paper, which Charlie 'ad given 'im for I O U's. Emma read 'em all, and then she threw a little parcel on the table. "There's your money," she ses; "take it and go." Mrs. Cook and 'er father began to call out, but it was no good.