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Bill came up later talking in a language with which the children were wholly unfamiliar. He leaped on to the barge and dipped up pails of water. Peter helped him and they put out the fire. Phyllis, the bargewoman, and the baby and presently Bobbie, too cuddled together in a heap on the bank. "Lord help me, if it was me left anything as could catch alight," said the woman again and again.
Pots of beer were held in mid-air, paralysed on their way to thirsty mouths. "Oh," said Bobbie, seeing the bargewoman and making for her. "Your barge cabin's on fire. Go quickly." The woman started to her feet, and put a big red hand to her waist, on the left side, where your heart seems to be when you are frightened or miserable.
"He made the worst of it, of course, but I had rather you knew the truth. You are angry?" Hetty sighed. "I am sorry. It seems to make our our love different somehow." The bargewoman brought out their tea. She had heard nothing of the scrimmage on the bank, so swiftly had it happened and with so few words spoken. "Halloa is the tinker gone? And I'd cut off a crust for him.
Washerwoman indeed! I would have you to know that I am a Toad, a very well-known, respected, distinguished Toad! I may be under a bit of a cloud at present, but I will NOT be laughed at by a bargewoman! The woman moved nearer to him and peered under his bonnet keenly and closely. 'Why, so you are! she cried. 'Well, I never! A horrid, nasty, crawly Toad! And in my nice clean barge, too!
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