“There’s one in th’ afternoon—but I don’t know if it’d be gone by the time you get down.”
“To where?”
“Bull’ill.”
“Oh Bull’ill! Well, perhaps I’ll try. Could you tell me the way?”
When, after an hour’s painful walk, Mr. May came to Bullwell Station and found there was no train till six in the evening, he felt he was earning every penny he would ever get from Mr. Houghton.
The first intelligence which Miss Pinnegar and Alvina gathered of the coming adventure was given them when James announced that he had let the shop to Marsden, the grocer next door. Marsden had agreed to take over James’s premises at the same rent as that of the premises he already occupied, and moreover to do all alterations and put in all fixtures himself. This was a grand scoop for James: not a penny was it going to cost him, and the rent was clear profit.
“But when?” cried Miss Pinnegar.
“He takes possession on the first of October.”
“Well—it’s a good idea. The shop isn’t worth while,” said Miss Pinnegar.
“Certainly it isn’t,” said James, rubbing his hands: a sign that he was rarely excited and pleased.