"Oh, come off," said Win. "That's too much, even for us."
"Well, it is where we went and where the scales were," retorted Roger, "but there weren't any pounds to it, only what they call stones. I weigh exactly seven stone and I won't tell you how many pounds that is."
"Ninety-eight," said Win so promptly that Roger looked disconcerted.
"How did you know?" he demanded.
"From a book," replied his brother. "A little article that you don't yet value as highly as you might. What next?"
"Oh, that was about all," said Roger, "except that Miss Estelle told me I might choose some crackers, I mean biscuit, and to buy half a kilo. I forgot and asked for half a litre and the clerk grinned very disagreeably."
"Liquid measure instead of dry," commented Win in amusement. "After luncheon, Roger, permit me to introduce you to some parts of your arithmetic that you have evidently never examined. But go on."
"Then I stopped to look in a window and hurried to catch Miss Estelle and ran into a big fat man who was wearing stiff leather gaiters and a tam o' shanter. We came together rather hard," admitted Roger. "I didn't hurt myself much because he was quite soft, but his tam fell off and he said, 'Bless my soul, by George!"
"Roger, I can't stand any more," implored Frances.
"I don't follow the logic of that hair-dresser and the scales," mused Win, when he had stopped laughing. "Is it before and after a hair-cut or to see how much flesh the barber gouges out in a shave?"