"People aren't supposed to come in here," said Violet, smiling harshly, as she followed him.
He examined the packing of the cases rather negligently, and then turned to the shelves and adjusted his pince-nez.
"Mr. Earlforward left the bill. I don't know whether you'd like to check the volumes."
Mr. Bauersch appeared to be a man of few words. In another minute he had paid down the money in Bank Notes and Treasury Notes. Violet counted and temporarily locked the money away in a drawer of the desk. Strange that this reassuring episode did not soften her attitude!
"May I go and explore a little upstairs?" asked Mr. Bauersch, while she was preparing the receipt.
Evidently Henry, as sometimes he did to customers, had given Mr. Bauersch the freedom of the house during Violet's absence. The house was still very full of books, and free exploration was good for trade; but Violet the house-mistress objected to free exploration.
"I'm afraid I can't go up with you now," said she. "I'm all alone in the shop."
"I quite see." Mr. Bauersch accepted the rebuff with grace, and turned back again to the shelves, and then to the mounds of books on the floor.
Having receipted the bill, Violet ahemmed in the direction of the absorbed Mr. Bauersch, who ignored the signal. Then two young women entered the shop, and Violet decided to punish Mr. Bauersch by attending to them. They wanted "sevenpennies." There were no sevenpennies, and Violet spent at least five minutes with them, making a profit of one penny on the sale of a soiled copy of "The Scapegoat"; she displayed no impatience, and continued to chat after the deal was done and finished; she seemed to part from them with lingering pain.
"How much is this?" Mr. Bauersch demanded, somewhat urgently, holding out a volume; he had come into the shop.