His mother and the little man were talking together.

The man had taken him under the chin and twisted his face up.

"Is that the nipper ?" he had asked.
His mother had nodded, and, releasing Paul with a clumsy gesture of simulated affection, had sent him with twopence for a pint of beer to the public-house at the end of the street.

He recalled how the man had winked his little bright eye at his mother before putting the jug to his lips.
"I browt th' beer for yo'," said Paul.
"You did.

It was the worst beer, bar none, I've ever had.