"Have you a cigarette?" she asked suddenly.
Kemp went into the shop and came back with a packet of cheap cigarettes.
The girl pushed them away petulantly.
"I don't like that brand," she said; "haven't you anything better?"
The man shook his head.
"No? Then here goes--I must have a smoke of some sort." She stuck one of
the cheap cigarettes daintily into her mouth. "A match, Kincher! Why, the
box is filthy! You must have a woman in to look after you, even if I have
to find you one myself."
"I don't want any woman in the place," retorted Kemp. "There is no peace
for a man when a woman is about. But let us have no more of this idle
chatter. What's brought you over here? I suppose it's about Fred."
"Poor Fred!" The girl looked downcast for a moment, then she tossed her
head, puffed out some smoke, and exclaimed energetically, "But he's not
guilty, Kincher, and we'll get him off, won't we?"
"Not merely by saying so," replied Kemp. "But you'd better tell me how it
came about that he was arrested for the murder. The police gave away
nothing at the police court. Bill Dobbs was down there and he told me
they let out nothing, except that their principal witness against Fred is
that fellow Hill.
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