"Joe," he said sadly, "you know my rule----"
"'Ere's the exception, sir."
Mr. Lavender sighed. "No, no; I must practise what I preach. I shall
soon be rousing the people on the liquor question, too."
"Well, 'ere's luck," said Joe, draining the glass. "Will you 'ave a
slice of 'am?"
"That would not be amiss," said Mr. Lavender, taking Joe's knife with
the slice of ham upon its point. "'It is to them that we must look,'"
he resumed, "'to rejuvenate the Empire and make good the losses in the
firing-line.'" And he raised the knife to his mouth. No result followed,
while Blink wriggled on her base and licked her lips.
"Blink!" said Mr. Lavender reproachfully. "Joe!"
"Sir!"
"When you've finished your lunch and repaired the car you will find me
in the Town Hall or market-place. Take care of Blink. I'll tie her up.
Have you some string?"
Having secured his dog to the handle of the door and disregarded the
intensity of her gaze, Mr. Lavender walked back towards the Garden City
with a pamphlet in one hand and a crutch-handled stick in the other.
Restoring the ham to its nest behind his feet, Joe finished the bottle
of Bass. "This is a bit of all right!" he thought dreamily. "Lie down,
you bitch! Quiet! How can I get my nap while you make that row? Lie
down! That's better.
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