Ah-Fang-Fu began to play
Patience, constantly muttering to himself. The occasional wash of
tidal water became audible, and once there came a scampering and
squealing of rates from beneath the floor.
"Do you notice the sound of lapping water" whispered Stuart. "The
place is evidently built upon a foundation of piles and the cellars
must actually be submerged at high-tide."
_"Pardieu!_ it is a death trap. What is this!"
A loud knocking sounded upon the street door. Ah-Fang-Fu rose and
shuffled up the steps into the shop. He could be heard unbarring the
outer door. Then:
"Too late! shuttee shop, shuttee shop!" sounded.
"I don't want nothin' out of your blasted shop, Pidgin!" roared a loud
and thick voice. "I'm old Bill Bean, I am, and I want a pipe, I do!"
"Hullo, Bill!" replied the invisible 'Pidgin.' "Allee samee dlunk
again!"
A red-bearded ship's fireman, wearing sea-boots, a rough blue suit
similar to that which Stuart wore, a muffler and a peaked cap, lurched
into view at the head of the steps.
"Blimey!" he roared, over his shoulder. "Drunk! _Me_ drunk! An' all
the pubs in these parts sell barley-water coloured brown! Blimey! Chuck
it, Pidgin!"
Ah-Fang-Fu reappeared behind him. "Catchee dlunk ev'ly time for comee
here," he chattered.
"'Taint 'umanly possible," declared the new arrival, staggering down
the steps, "fer a 'ealthy sailorman to git drunk on coloured water
just 'cause the publican calls it beer! I ain't drunk; I'm only
miserable.
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