Wilks knew now the explanation: Teddy Silk was intoxicated. Very gently
he leaned towards the erring youth and wagged his head at him.
"Are you going to hold up or aren't you?" demanded Mr. Silk, shortly.
The steward waived the question; he knew from experience the futility of
arguing with men in drink. The great thing was to get Teddy Silk home,
not to argue with him. He smiled good-temperedly to himself, and with a
sudden movement pinned him up against the wall in time to arrest another`
fall.
[Illustration: "The great thing was to get Teddy Silk home."]
With frequent halts by the way, during which the shortness of Mr. Silk's
temper furnished Mr. Wilks with the texts of several sermons, none of
which he finished, they at last reached Fullalove Alley, and the steward,
with a brief exhortation to his charge to hold his head up, bore down on
Mrs. Silk, who was sitting in her doorway.
"I've brought 'im 'ome," he said, steadying himself against the doorpost;
"brought 'im 'ome."
"Brought 'im 'ome?" said the bewildered Mrs. Silk.
"Don' say anything to 'im," entreated Mr. Wilks, "my sake. Thing might
'appen anybody.
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