They was all so surprised at fust that they couldn't speak, but old Cook smiled at 'im and put the winder up agin. And Charlie Tagg sat there arf mad with temper, locking as though 'e could eat Jack Bates without any salt, as the saying is.
"I—I can't take it," he ses at last, with a stammer.
"Can't take it? Why not?" ses old Cook, staring. "This gentleman 'as given it to you." "A free gift," ses Mrs. Cook, smiling at Jack very sweet.
"I can't take it," ses Charlie, winking at Jack to take the money up and give it to 'im quiet, as arranged. "I 'ave my pride."
"So 'ave I," ses Jack. "Are you going to take it?"
Charlie gave another look. "No," he ses, "I cant take a favour. I borrowed the money and I'll pay it back.
"Very good," ses Jack, taking it up. "It's my money, ain't it?"
"Yes," ses Charlie, taking no notice of Mrs. Cook and 'er husband, wot was both talking to 'im at once, and trying to persuade 'im to alter his mind.
"Then I give it to Miss Emma Cook," ses Jack Bates, putting it into her hands. "Good-night everybody and good luck."
He slammed the front door behind 'im and they 'eard 'im go off down the road as if 'e was going for fire-engines. Charlie sat there for a moment struck all of a heap, and then 'e jumped up and dashed arter 'im. He just saw 'im disappearing round a corner, and he didn't see 'im agin for a couple o' year arterwards, by which time the Sydney gal had 'ad three or four young men arter 'im, and Emma, who 'ad changed her name to Smith, was doing one o' the best businesses in the chandlery line in Poplar.