Bart, still being shaken, gasped out the words, and then gave his arm to the lady who was to rule his life. Deborah kissed him in a loud, hearty way, and led him in triumph to the cottage. Here Mrs. Purr had prepared a simple meal, and the health of the happy pair was proposed by Paul. Mrs. Purr toasted them in gin, and wept as she did so. A dismal, tearful old woman was Mrs. Purr, and she was about to open her mouth, in order to explain what she thought would come of the marriage, when Mrs. Tawsey stopped her. "None of them groans," cried Deborah, with vigor. "I won't have my weddings made funerals. 'Old your tongue, Mrs. Purr, and you, Bart, jes' swear to love, honor an' obey my pretty as you would your own lawful wife, and the ceremonies is hoff." Bart performed the request, and then Paul, laughing at the oddity of it all, took his leave. On walking to the gate, he was overtaken by Mrs. Purr, who winked mysteriously. "Whatever you do, sir," said the lean old creature, with many contortions of her withered face, "don't have nothin' to do with Tray." "Tray," echoed Paul in surprise. "Mr. Pash's office boy?" "Him and none other. I knows his grandmother, as 'as bin up for drunk two hundred times, and is proud of it. Stretchers is as common to her, sir, as kissings is to a handsome young gent like you. An' the boy takes arter her. A deep young cuss," whispered Granny Purr, significantly. "But why should I beware of him?" asked Beecot, puzzled. "A nod's a wink to a blind 'un," croaked Mrs. Purr, condensing the proverb, and turning away. "Jus' leave that brat, Tray, to his own wickedness. They'll bring him to the gallers some day." "But I want to know--" "Ah, well, then, you won't, sir. I ses what I ses, and I ses no more nor I oughter say. So good-night, sir," and Mrs. Purr toddled up the newly-gravelled path, and entered the cottage, leaving an odor of gin behind her. Beecot had half a mind to follow, so strange was the hint she had given him. Apparently, she knew something which connected him with Tray, and Paul wondered for the fiftieth time, if the boy had picked up the opal brooch. However, he decided to leave the matter alone for the present. Mrs. Purr, whom Deborah had engaged to iron, was always available, and Paul decided, that should anything point to Tray's being implicated in the finding of the opal serpent, that he would hand him over to Hurd, who would be better able to deal with such a keen young imp of the gutter. Thus making up his mind, Paul dismissed all thought of Mrs. Purr's mysterious utterance, and walked briskly to the nearest bus-stand, where he took a blue vehicle to the Bloomsbury district. All the way to his garret he dreamed of Sylvia, and poor though was the home he had left her in, he was thankful that she was there in the safe shelter of Mrs. Deborah Tawsey's arms.