"Where have you been?"
"I haven't been far; I'm going farther now. Anything else you want to know? I've got no time to waste."
"My dear"—Cragg spoke nervously—"I want to show you this. I want to know if it really is yours, because if it is—"
He held up a bill before her eyes, and Mrs. Cragg shoved it aside.
"Really, Mr. Cragg, I haven't got time for bills this morning."
"I'm afraid you'll have to find time. It's a bill 'rendered,' you see. No items given. You must have had it by you, unpaid, for some time. And not only that, but you will have to find the money too, if this sort of thing goes on. I cannot meet such demands."
"Pooh, Mr. Cragg! A paltry fifteen pounds! And everybody knows what you're worth."
"A good deal better than I know it myself, most likely. What are the fifteen pounds for?"
"How should I know? Whose is it? Wakeforth & Co.? I suppose it is my green velveteen jacket, and—a few other things."
"Dora, you will have to make a change. I am not a rich man. My business has been less successful the last two years than it used to be. There are more rivals now, and younger men with newer methods. I cannot afford this sort of thing."