"Fifteen years!" responded the other. He cast his eyes upwards and his
lips twitched. The most casual observer could have seen that he was
engaged in calculations of an abstruse and elusive nature.
"I was on'y seven when 'e started," said Mrs. Silk, sharply.
Mr. Wilks brought his eyes to a level again. "Oh, seven," he remarked.
"And we was married two days before my nineteenth birthday," added Mrs.
Silk, whose own arithmetic had always been her weak point.
"Just so," said Mr. Wilks. He glanced at the sharp white face and
shapeless figure before him. "It's hard to believe you can 'ave a son
Teddy's age," he added, gallantly.
"It makes you feel as if you're getting on," said the widow.
The ex-steward agreed, and after standing a minute or two in silence made
a preliminary motion of withdrawal.
"Beautiful your plants are looking," said Mrs. Silk, glancing over at his
window; "I can't think what you do to 'em."
The gratified Mr. Wilks began to explain. It appeared that plants wanted
almost as much looking after as daughters.
"I should like to see 'em close," said Mrs. Silk. "Come in and 'ave a
look at 'em," responded her neighbour.
Mrs. Silk hesitated and displayed a maidenly coyness far in excess of the
needs of the situation. Then she stepped across, and five seconds later
the two matrons, with consternation writ large upon their faces, appeared
at their doors again and, exchanging glances across the alley, met in the
centre.
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