“Aye. Not that I’ve been dunning her. Maybe Tony, my clerk, has dropped a hint. She’s got a rich husband; though they’re not always the best payers. I don’t argue with that sort. ‘Well, mem,’ I says, when she comes up to me at Kempton, all jam and honey. ‘I got seven small children to keep in boot leather. I can’t lay them boots to nothin’. When that hole which you’ve bitten in my pocketbook is filled up, I’ll maybe consider makin’ a bet with you. I don’t want to offend you, mem,’ I says, ‘but this ain’t business. Nowt for nowt is my motto,’ I says, and with that she tosses her head and went off in a huff.”

“So she stung you. Any others?”

“Yes. She got under the guard of one or two of ’em. Howsumever we reckons to get our bit when the time comes. The old ’un has got the dough, and she’ll wheedle it out of him. She ain’t so much crooked as flippity⁠—and she’s a reg’ler little spitfire when she can’t get her own way.”