"Who is Mr. Hicking?"

"Him as we've been speaking on--William. We calls him mister, 'cause
he's a toff. Father's just doing jobs in Covent Gardens, but Mr.
Hicking, he's a waiter, and a clean shirt every day. The old woman would
like father to be a waiter, but he hain't got the 'ristocratic look."

"What old woman?"

"Go 'long! that's my mother. Is it true there's a waiter in the club
just for to open the door?"

"Yes; but--"

"And another just for to lick the stamps? My!"

"William leaves the club at one o'clock?" I said, interrogatively.

She nodded. "My mother," she said, "is one to talk, and she says Mr.
Hicking as he should get away at twelve, 'cause his missis needs him
more'n the gentlemen need him. The old woman do talk."

"And what does William answer to that?"

"He says as the gentlemen can't be kept waiting for their cheese."

"But William does not go straight home when he leaves the club?"

"That's the kid."