524 ANGEL PAVEMENT

And she deed not vant to go to bed, but I make her

g°."

"Little monkey!" Mr. Golspie rumbled, "Good job
you thought something was up, though, and came in.
I'm much obliged. Very grateful. Just take Miss Mat-
field here into her, will you, and I'll be back in a minute
or two."

"Is she all right?" cried Turgis, as Mr. Golspie came
into the room.

"I don't know about that," he replied grimly, "but
she's a damned sight better than she was when you left
her lying here, you crazy little skunk. Come here."

"Oh!-thank God!"

"Come here. You can do your thanking afterwards."
And he grabbed Turgis by the lapel of his coat, and
yanked him nearer. "Just listen to me. There are one
or two things I could do to you. To start with, I could
give you such a damned good hiding you'd never want
to look at a girl, never mind put your hands on her, for
the next six months. See?" And he shook Turgis with
a sort of menacing playfulness, like a terrier with a rat.
"And while I'm about it, here's a bit of good advice
for you. Keep away from 'em. You're not a lady-killer,
y'know—though, by God, you nearly were to-night—and
if you take a good look at yourself, you'll see why. Drop
it. You're no good at it. And another thing I could do
to you, Mister half-starved caveman, is to hand you over
to the police. I could do that all right, couldn't I?" he
demanded, looking sternly at his wretched prisoner,
who, hearing that tone and meeting that look, had every
excuse for not realising that this was the last thing Mr.
Golspie had any idea of doing.

"Yes, you could, Mr. Golspie," he replied miserably.