86 ANGEL PAVEMENT

chance. She can enjoy a ride as well as the next/*

"Righto," said George briskly. He rose from the
table.

"Here, you want some pudding/'

"Not to-night. Off pudding to-night. Couldn't look
it in the face. 'Sides, I haven't time."

"Timer1 cried his mother. "You're never in. Where
you going/'

"Out."

"Out where?'*

"Just knocking about with some ot the fellers/'

Mr. Smeeth looked at him, rather gravely. He felt
it was his turn to speak now. "Just a minute/' he said
sharply. "What does 'knocking about' mean exactly, may
I ask?"

At this, George looked a shade less confident, a trifle
younger, as he stood there tapping his cigarette, "I
dunno. Might do one thing, might do another. Might
have a game of billiards at the Institute, or look in at
the pictures, or go down to the second house at Fins-
bury Park. Depends what everybody wants to do. No
harm in that, Dad." He lit his cigarette.

"Course there isn't," said Mrs. Smeeth, "Your father
never said there was."

"No, I didn't," said Mr. Smeeth slowly. "That's all
right, George. Only don't take all night about it, that's
all. Oh!~there's just another thing." He hesitated a
moment/ "Somebody told me he'd seen you once or
twice with that flash bookie chap-what's his name?-
y'know-Shandon. Well, you keep away from that chap,
George. I don't interfere-and you know I don'Mml
that chap's a wrong 'un, and I don't want to see a
boy of mine in his company/1