_Enter_ Sir POSHBURY, _gloomy and constrained, with_ SPIKER, _who is
jaunty, and somewhat over-familiar_.

_Spiker (sitting on the piano, and dusting his boots with a
handkerchief)._ Cosy little shanty you've got here, PUDDOCK--very tasty!

_Sir P. (with a gulp)._ I am--ha--delighted that you approve of it! Ah,
VERBENA! [_Kisses her on forehead._

_Spiker._ Your daughter, eh? Pooty gal. Introduce me.

[_Sir_ POSH. _introduces him--with an effort_.

_Verbena. (coldly)._ How do you do? Papa, did you know that the sashline
of this window was broken? If it is not mended, it will fall on
somebody's head, and perhaps kill him!

_Sir. P. (absently)._ Yes--yes, it shall be attended to; but leave us,
my child, go. BLESHUGH, this--er--gentleman and I have business of
importance to discuss.

_Spiker._ Don't let us drive you away, Miss; your Pa and me are only
talking over old times, that's all--eh, POSH?

_Sir P. (in a tortured aside)._ Have a care, Sir, don't drive me too
far! (_To_ VERB.) Leave us, I say. (Lord B. and VERB. _go out, raising
their eyebrows_.) Now, Sir, what is this secret you profess to have
discovered?

_Spiker._ Oh, a mere nothing. (_Takes out a cigar._) Got a light about
you? Thanks. Perhaps you don't recollect twenty-seven years ago this
very day, travelling from Edgware Road to Baker Street, by the
Underground Railway?

_Sir P._ Perfectly; it was my thirteenth birthday, and I celebrated the
event by a visit to Madame TUSSAUD'S.

_Spiker._ Exactly; it was your thirteenth birthday, and you travelled
second-class with a half-ticket--(_meaningly_)--on your thirteenth
birthday.

_Sir P. (terribly agitated)._ Fiend that you are, how came you to learn
this?

_Spiker._ Very simple. I was at that time in the temporary position of
ticket-collector at Baker Street. In the exuberance of boyhood, you
cheeked me. I swore to be even with you some day.

_Sir P._ Even if--if your accusation were well-founded, how are you
going to prove it?

_Sp._ Oh, that's easy! I preserved the half-ticket, on the chance that I
should require it as evidence hereafter.

_Sir P. (aside)._ And so the one error of an otherwise blameless boyhood
has found me out--at last. (_To_ SPIKER.) I fear you not; my crime--if
crime indeed it was--is surely condoned by twenty-seven long years of
unimpeachable integrity!

_Sp._ Bye-laws are bye-laws, old buck! there's no time limit in criminal
offences that ever _I_ heard of! Noth