"Yes, of course," said Tubby. "I know of some ripping stuff."
"But you're going much too far," said Ben.
"Never mind," said Tubby, "you'll find it'll all help. You can't know too much."
"There's that wonderful place for jam in Paris," said Melanie. "I forgot the name. It's in the Rue de Sèze: oh yes, Tandrade. You see them making it in the shop. Nothing like it. I'm sure that anyone who could act as an intermediary between English people and the best French shops would make a fortune."
"Or the other way round," said Tubby. "I'll bet you France is full of people who would like to get things from London but don't know how. Think of the awful things they have to put up with now," he went on. "Have you ever been in a small French chemist's? No one but a peasant in a smock to look after you. And their shoe leather; I mean for men. And their umbrellas. I can see an International Shopping Bureau going very strong."
"Please stop," said Ben, in mock despair. "You're too resourceful. And what do you think," she asked, turning to me, "shall we call it 'The Beck and Call'?"
"I think that's admirable," I said. "I wish I'd thought of it."