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She didn't 'ave ter ask me for three 'apence ter get a drop of beer. Liza was wise in her generation; she held her tongue, and put on her hat. 'Now, you're goin' aht, and leavin' me; I dunno wot you get up to in the street with all those men. No good, I'll be bound. An' 'ere am I left alone, an' I might die for all you care.
See, fourpence in 'apence, that's all." The man's eye began to alarm Christopher. He shook with indecision, he gulped down his bitterness, he handed the golden coin. "All right; never mind change." "Thanky, sir. Good night." And Mr. Parish was alone on the pavement. So grievously did he feel for the loss of that half-sovereign that for some moments he could think of nothing else.
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