And, if Mrs Bonus comes, ask her to wait, an' say I've jes gone
out to get a little Jacky."
Mavis waited in the dark room of the deserted house. Had she not
been tired and heartsick, she would have been amused at this strange
experience. A quarter of an hour passed without anyone calling, when
she heard the sound of a key in the latch, and Mrs Bilkins returned.
"No Mrs Bonus?"
"No one's been."
"It isn't her washing day neither, though it would be late for a
lady like 'er to be out all alone. Drink this."
"But it's stout," said Mavis, as Mrs Bilkins lit the gas.
"I call it jacky. A glass will do you good."
Mavis drank some of the liquor and certainly felt the better for it.
"I bought you a quarter of German," declared Mrs Bilkins, as she
enrolled a paper parcel.
"You mean German sausage," said Mavis, as she caught sight of the
mottled meat, a commodity which her old friend Mr Siggers sold.
"I always call it German," remarked Mrs Bilkins, a trifle huffily.
"But what am I to eat it on?"
"That is funny. I'm always forgetting," said Mrs Bilkins, as she
faded from the room.
After some time, she came back with a coarse cloth, a thick plate, a
wooden-handled knife, together with a fork made of some pliant
material; these she put before Mavis.
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