abandoned Battersea for the parks
on the other side of the river, but often enough one went by, and
Liza, with the old-fashioned prejudice of her class, would look after
the rider and make some remark about her, not seldom more forcible
than ladylike. Both Jim and she liked children, and, tiny, ragged
urchins would gather round to have rides on the man's knees or mock
fights with Liza.

They thought themselves far away from anyone in Vere Street, but
twice, as they were walking along, they were met by people they knew.
Once it was two workmen coming home from a job at Vauxhall: Liza did
not see them till they were quite near; she immediately dropped Jim's
arm, and they both cast their eyes to the ground as the men passed,
like ostriches, expecting that if they did not look they would not be
seen.

'D'you see 'em, Jim?' asked Liza, in a whisper, when they had gone by.
'I wonder if they see us.' Almost instinctively she turned round, and
at the same moment one of the men turned too; then there was no doubt
about it.

'Thet did give me a turn,' she said.

'So it did me,' answered Jim; 'I simply went 'ot all over.'

'We was bally fools,' said Liza; 'we oughter 'ave spoken to 'em! D'you
think they'll let aht?'

They heard nothing of it, when Jim afterwards met one of the men in a
public-house he did not mention a meeting, and they thought that
perhaps they had not been recognized. But the second time was worse.

It was on the Albert Embankment again. They were met by a party of
four, all of whom lived in the street. Liza's heart sank within her,
for there was no chance of escape; she thought of turning quickly and
walking in the opposite direction, but there was not time, for the men
had already seen them. She whispered to Jim:

'Back us up,' and as they met she said to one of the men:

''Ulloa there! Where are you off to?'

The men stopped, and one of them asked the question back.

'Where are you off to?'

'Me? Oh, I've just been to the 'orspital. One of the gals at our place
is queer, an' so I says ter myself, "I'll go an' see 'er."' She
faltered a little as she began, but quickly gathered herself together,
lying fluently and without hesitation.

'An' when I come aht,' she went on, ''oo should I see just passin' the
'orspital but this 'ere cove, an' 'e says to me, "Wot cheer," says 'e,
"I'm goin' ter Vaux'all, come an' walk a bit of the wy with us."
"Arright," says I, "I don't mind if I do."'

One man wi