"That's what I want to know," he answered facetiously.
"She's awful cut up about something. I thought you was sure to know
what it was, Mr. Gammon. She says a lot of you has been using her
shimeful."
"Oh, she does, does she?"
"You should hear her talk! Now it's her landlydy--now it's her
awnt--now it's I don't know who. To hear her--she's been used
shimeful. She says she's been drove out of the 'ouse. I didn't think
it of _you_, Mr. Gammon."
At the moment the bus was drawing slowly near to a popular
wine-shop. Mr. Nibby whispered to Miss Waghorn, who dropped her eyes
and looked demure; whereupon he addressed Gammon.
"What do you say to a glass of dry sherry, sir?"
"Right you are, sir!"
So the omnibus was stopped to allow Miss Waghorn to alight, and all
three turned into the wine-shop. Dry sherry not being to Miss
Waghorn's taste she chose sweet port, drinking it as one to the
manner born, and talking the while in hoarse whispers, with now and
then an outburst of shrill laughter. The dark, narrow space before
the counter or bar was divided off with wooden partitions as at a
pawnbroker's; each compartment had a high stool for the luxuriously
inclined, and along the wall ran a bare wooden bench.
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