“I can’t help that. I must have discount for cash,” said the Terror yet more firmly.
The girl hesitated; then she called Mr. Barker who, acting as his own shop-walker, was strolling up and down with great dignity. Mr. Barker came and she put the matter to him.
“Oh, no, sir; I’m afraid we couldn’t think of it. Barker’s is too old established a house to connive at these sharp modern ways of doing business,” said Mr. Barker with a very impressive air.
The Terror looked at him with a cold thoughtful eye: “All right,” he said. “You can put the stole down to me—Master Hyacinth Dangerfield, Colet House, Little Deeping.”
He began to shovel the money back into the bag.
An expression of deep pain spread over the mobile face of Mr. Barker as the coins began to disappear; and he said quickly: “I’m afraid we can’t do that, sir. Our terms are cash—strictly cash.”
“Oh, no, they’re not. My mother has had an account here for the last six years,” said the Terror icily; and the last of the coins went into the bag.
Mr. Barker held out a quivering hand, and with an air and in a tone of warm geniality he cried: “Oh, that alters the case altogether! In the case of the son of an old customer like Mrs. Dangerfield we’re delighted to deduct five per cent. discount for cash—delighted. Make out the bill for three pounds, Miss Perkins.”
Miss Perkins made out the bill for three pounds; and Erebus bore away the stole tenderly.
As the triumphant Terror came out of the shop, he jingled the brave three shillings discount in his pocket and said: “Now for Springer’s!”