"
"I'm sorry I can't oblige you. I don't smoke cigarettes."
"Then I'll 'ave to 'ave one of my own," said Albert moodily.
He reached into the mysteries of his pocket and produced a piece of
string, a knife, the wishbone of a fowl, two marbles, a crushed
cigarette, and a match. Replacing the string, the knife, the
wishbone and the marbles, he ignited the match against the tightest
part of his person and lit the cigarette.
"I can help yer. I know the ropes."
"And smoke them," said George, wincing.
"Pardon?"
"Nothing."
Albert took an enjoyable whiff.
"I know all about yer."
"You do?"
"You and Lidy Mord."
"Oh, you do, do you?"
"I was listening at the key-'ole while the row was goin' on."
"There was a row, was there?"
A faint smile of retrospective enjoyment lit up Albert's face. "An
orful row! Shoutin' and yellin' and cussin' all over the shop.
About you and Lidy Maud."
"And you drank it in, eh?"
"Pardon?"
"I say, you listened?"
"Not 'arf I listened. Seeing I'd just drawn you in the sweepstike,
of course, I listened--not 'arf!"
George did not follow him here.
"The sweepstike? What's a sweepstike?"
"Why, a thing you puts names in 'ats and draw 'em and the
one that gets the winning name wins the money.
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