twenty years, while I've been working myself to skin and bone, she's been
living in comfort and idleness."

"'Ard lines," said Mr. Wotton, shaking his head. "It don't bear thinking
of."

"Why didn't she advertise for me?" said Mr. Davis, raising his voice.
"That's what I want to know. Advertisements is cheap enough; why didn't
she advertise? I should 'ave come at once if she'd said anything about
money."

Mr. Wotton shook his head again. "P'r'aps she didn't want you," he said,
slowly.

"What's that got to do with it?" demanded the other. "It was 'er dooty.
She'd got money, and I ought to have 'ad my 'arf of it. Nothing can make
up for that wasted twenty years--nothing."

"P'r'aps she'll take you back," said Mr. Wotton.

"Take me back?" repeated Mr. Davis. "O' course she'll take me back.
She'll have to. There's a law in the land, ain't there? What I'm
thinking of is: Can I get back my share what I ought to have 'ad for the
last twenty years?"

"Get 'er to take you back first," counselled his friend. "Thirty-five
years is along time, and p'r'aps she has lost 'er love for you. Was you
good-looking in those days?"

"Yes," snapped Mr. Davis; "I ain't altered much--. 'Sides, what about