it was," said Polly, with her air of
pique and propriety, "well, it's a boy. So you needn't look at me like
that."

"A boy, eh?"

"Well, that's what _I_ think him. He's a young clurk in the City as
I've known long enough, and _I_ think him a boy. Of course you're
always ready to believe harm of me--that's nothing new. And if the
truth was known, you go talkin' to Mrs. Bubb and them Cheesemans."

"I don't! I told you I shouldn't, and I don't!"

"You do!"

"It's a lie!"

"You're one yourself!" retorted Polly with heat.

Thereupon Mr. Gammon turned about and walked off. Polly could not
believe that he would really go. Scorning to look back she paced on for
some minutes, but no familiar step approached her; when at length she
looked round Mr. Gammon was nowhere to be seen. This extraordinary
behaviour she attributed to jealousy, and so was not entirely
displeased. But the idea of leaving her in the middle of the street, as
one might say! Did one ever! And just after he'd got what he wanted.

"All right, old fellow! Wait till you want to see me again, that's all."

To have his word disbelieved was the one thing fatal to Gammon's
temper. He strode off in a towering rage, determined to hold no more
communication with Miss Sparkes, and blaming himself for having got
into such an ambiguous position towards her. As if he had ever really
cared one snap of the fingers for the red-headed spitfire! She to tell
him to his face that his word was not to be trusted! He had never stood
that yet, from man or woman!

At this rate he would presently have no female friends at all. Mrs.
Clover he had not once seen since the evening at Mrs. Bubb's, and every
day that went by put a greater distance between them. He understood her
unfriendliness; she thought this the best way of destroying any hopes
he might still entertain with reference to Minnie; yes, that was the
only possible explanation of her silence. It was too bad; Mrs. Clover
might have put more faith in him. Now he would not visit her; he would
not write. If she wished to see him again, let her acknowledge the
wrong she had done him.

As for the muddle about her husband, be hanged to it! He would think no
more about the business. Ten to one this address that Polly had
obtained would be quite useless. How could he go to strangers (named
Gildersleeve) and coolly inquire of them whether they knew a man named
Clover? Of course they would have him kicked into the street, and