Either of yesterday's events would have sufficed to exhilarate him; together they whipped his blood and frothed his fancy.
He had found Clover, who was a lord! He had won the love of Polly Sparkes, who was the finest girl living! Did ever the bagman of an oil and colour firm speed about his duties with such springs of excitement bubbling within him?
And Mrs.Clover?
Ought she not to be told at once?
Had he any right to keep to himself such a discovery as this?
He knew, by police court precedent, that a false name in marriage did not invalidate the contract.

Beyond shadow of doubt Mrs.Clover was Lady Polperro.

And Minnie--why, suppose Minnie had favoured his suit, he would have been son-in-law of a peer! As it was, whom might not the girl marry! She would pass from the neighbourhood of Battersea Park Road to a house in Mayfair or Belgravia; from Doulton's and the china shop to unimaginable heights of social dignity.

And who more fit for the new sphere?
Mr.
Gammon sighed, but in a moment remembered Polly and snapped his fingers.
A little before five o'clock he was hovering within sight of the coffee tavern, which already threw radiance into the murky and muddy street.
In a minute or two he saw Polly and exchanged a quick word with her.
"Up you go! You'll find all ready.

If he comes I shall see him, and I'll look in when you've had a little talk." Polly disappeared, and Mr.Gammon again hovered.