Who could say that the girl's father had not once been a fashionable clergyman in the States and that drink had got him and forced him down, step by step, until—to use the child's odd expression—he had come upon the beach? She was cynical, this spinster. "Every brick I take out," cried Jack, as fresh rubbish clattered down the chimney, "brings me nearer my mother. He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. Och! many a mug o' bubb have I drained wi' the landlord, Joe Hind. He's now in spring-ankle warehouse with Sir Rowland Trenchard. I do swear. The miserable woman staggered, uttered a deep groan, and fell senseless on the straw.
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