“Brought her here? Well, tell us about it—no good punching yourself. When did you find out he was married?” “Knew it years ago; didn’t know the woman was alive, though. Thought she must ’a’ bin dead when you told me he’d married your mother.” Some light broke on Johnny. “And you took these days off to look for her—was that it?” “That’s it. An’ I was a fool—made things wuss instead o’ better!” “Never mind about that—anything’s better than having that brute here. What changed your mind about her being dead?” “Oh, I dunno. I’ll tell you all there is to it. Long time ago when I was workin’ at Bishop’s an’ lodgin’ in Lime’us, my lan’lady she knew Butson an’ ’is wife too, an’ she told me they led a pretty cat an’ dog life, an’ one day Butson hops the twig. Well his missus wasn’t sorry to lose ’im, an’ she sets to washin’ an’ ironin’ to keep ’erself an’ the kid. But when Butson gets out of a job (’e was never in one long) ’e goes snivellin’ round to ’er, an’ wants to go back, an’ be kep’. Well the missis makes it pretty ’ot for ’im, you may guess; but she stands ’im for a week or two, givin’ it ’im pretty thick all the time, till Butson ’e cuts away again, an’ never comes back. His missis never bothered about ’im—said she was well quit. This was all before I went to live at Lime’us, but she used to be pals with my lan’lady. I kep’ a bottle o’ whisky then, case of a friend comin’, an’ them two give it what for, between ’em, on the quiet.” “And did you know her then—his wife?” “On’y by sight, an’ not to say to speak to, me bein’ a quiet sort. I knew Butson since—in the shops; most took ’im for a bachelor. Well, I wasn’t at Lime’us very long; I came away to this part an’ see no more of ’er—though o’ course I see ’im, often. When you told me ’e’d married your mother it took me aback a bit at first. But then, thinks I, I expect the first one’s dead—must be. But after that, the other day, when you told me what a right down bad ’un ’e was, I begun to think wuss of ’im. I knew ’e’d bin livin’ idle, but I didn’t guess ’e treated ’er so bad. An’ when you talked o’ wantin’ to get rid of ’im, I got a notion. If ’e’s bad enough for what ’e’s done, thinks I, ’e’s bad enough for anythink. P’raps ’is fust wife ’s alive after all, an’ if she is, why the job’s done! Anyway, I puts it, I’ll risk a day or two auf on it. An’ I did, an’ ’ere’s a nice old bloomin’ mess I made! Oh, I ought to be poleaxed!” “Well of course there’s been a row,” Johnny said gloomily, “an’ I expect it’ll knock trade to pieces here, an’ half kill mother. But you couldn’t very well help a row in a thing like this.”