Part 14

“Ah!”

“What's the matter with that?”

“Good for the crops.”

“Missis well?”

“So, so.”

“Wish mine was.”

“Wot's the matter with her?”

“Busy!” replied Joe, sinking his voice. Never 'ave a woman permanent; that's my experience.

The gardener did not reply, but stood staring at the lilac-bush below Joe Petty's face. He was a thin man, rather like an old horse.

“Do you think we can win this war?” resumed Joe.

“Dunno,” replied the gardener apathetically.

“We seem to be goin' back nicely all the time.”

Joe wagged his head. “You've 'it it,” he said. And, jerking his head back towards the room behind him, “Guv'nor's got it now.”

“What?”

“The new disease.”

“What new disease?”

“Wy, the Run-abaht-an-tell-'em-'ow-to-do-it.”

“Ah!”

“'E's copped it fair. In bed.”

“You don't say!”

“Not 'alf!” Joe sank his voice still lower. “Wot'll you bet me I don't ketch it soon?”

The gardener uttered a low gurgle.

“The cats 'ave been in that laylock,” he replied, twisting off a broken branch. “I'll knock off now for a bit o' lunch.”

But at that moment the sound of a voice speaking as it might be from a cavern, caused him and Joe Petty to stare at each other as if petrified.

“Wot is it?” whispered Joe at last.

The gardener jerked his head towards a window on the ground floor.

“Someone in pain,” he said.

“Sounds like the Guv'nor's voice.”