"Look here, wench," he said. "I don't know as this is much in my line. Summat a thought less gaudy'll do for my old bones."
"I won't move a step farther this night!" Helen declared. "I'm ready to drop."
He remembered that she must be soothed.
"Well," he said, "here goes!"
And he strode across the tessellated pavement under the cold, scrutinizing eye of menials to a large window marked in gold letters: "Bureau."
"Have ye gotten a couple of bedrooms like?" he asked the clerk.
"Yes, sir," said the clerk (who was a perfect lady). "What do you want?"
"Don't I tell ye as we want a couple o' bedrooms, miss?"
After negotiations she pushed across the counter to him—two discs of cardboard numbered 324 and 326, each marked 6s. 6d. He regarded the price as fantastic, but no cheaper rooms were to be had, and Helen's glance was dangerous.
"Why," he muttered, "I've got a four-roomed cottage empty at Turnhill as I'd let for a month for thirteen shillings, and paper it!"