Accordingly Nellie, who had twopence to spend, went into the shop, followed by Tim. As soon as the pair had disappeared, Tom, with a would-be-indifferent air, strolled a few steps forward and passed the motor-car, then turned and repassed it. The chauffeur had got out, and was standing on the pavement, but Peter Perry had not moved, and was sitting with his eyes fixed straight before him.
"I wonder if he saw me?" Tom said to himself. "I don't think he did. Of course, I shouldn't dream of speaking to him. I should like him to know that."
He strolled forward again and paused in a line with the car, giving a slight cough to attract Peter's attention, intending, as soon as the boy looked at him, to give him a withering glance and move on— in short, to cut him.
But the unexpected happened. At the sound of the cough Peter started slightly, and immediately turned his dark eyes upon Tom; there was not the very faintest sign of recognition in them, however, and he did not speak. At that instant Miss Perry came out of the draper's, and Tom beat a hasty retreat to the sweetshop doorway. Instead of having cut Peter Perry, he had been cut by him. Tom's cheeks were aflame with anger when his little sister joined him.
"Oh, Tom," she cried, looking with an expression of mingled wistfulness and admiration at the car, which was now on the point of starting, "how nice it must be to be rich like Miss Perry! I wish she was our aunt, don't you? What a good time that boy must have, mustn't he? Oh, what a nice dog!"
"Come along, come along!" said Tom gruffly. "Don't stare so, Nellie! The dog's a savage brute!"
"How do you know, Tom?"
"Because he fought Tim the other day—would have half killed him, I believe, if a man hadn't come along and interfered. His name is Bounce."
"How did you find out that?"
"His master—he belongs to Miss Perry's nephew—told me so."