She did not answer, and he continued, "It do seem strange to be walking out with you again, meeting you after all these years, and I'm never in your neighbourhood. I just happened to have a bit of business with a friend who lives your way, and was coming along from his 'ouse, turning over in my mind what he had told me about Rising Sun for the Stewards' Cup, when I saw you coming along with the jug in your 'and. I said, 'That's the prettiest girl I've seen this many a day; that's the sort of girl I'd like to see behind the bar of the "King's Head."' You always keeps your figure--you know you ain't a bit changed; and when I caught sight of those white teeth I said, 'Lor', why, it's Esther.'"
"I thought it was about the child you was going to speak to me."
"So I am, but you came first in my estimation. The moment I looked into your eyes I felt it had been a mistake all along, and that you was the only one I had cared about."
"Then all about wanting to see the child was a pack of lies?"
"No, they weren't lies. I wanted both mother and child--if I could get 'em, ye know. I'm telling you the unvarnished truth, Esther. I thought of the child as a way of getting you back; but little by little I began to take an interest in him, to wonder what he was like, and with thoughts of the boy came different thoughts of you, Esther, who is the mother of my boy. Then I wanted you both back; and I've thought of nothing else ever since."
At that moment they reached the Metropolitan Railway, and William pressed forward to get the tickets. A subterraneous rumbling was heard, and they ran down the steps as fast as they could, and seeing them so near the ticket-collector held the door open for them, and just as the train was moving from the platform William pushed Esther into a second-class compartment.
"No, we ain't; get in, get in," he shouted. And with the guard crying to him to desist, he hopped in after her, saying, "You very nearly made me miss the train. What 'ud you've done if the train had taken you away and left me behind?"
The remark was not altogether a happy one.
"Then you travel second-class?" Esther said.
"Yes, I always travel second-class now; Peggy never would, but second seems to me quite good enough. I don't care about third, unless one is with a lot of pals, and can keep the carriage to ourselves. That's the way we manage it when we go down to Newmarket or Doncaster."