He stared at her for a second, then his shrewd grin reappeared. “Not unless you’ll toss me for it,” he said. “There’d be no luck without.”
She accepted the sporting suggestion. Strangely, in that moment, it appealed to her. She needed trivialities as never before.
“You can toss if you like,” she said.
He took the coin and spun it, caught it deftly, and looked at her. “Heads, miss?” he questioned.
“Yes, heads,” she agreed.
He slapped it forthwith on to the tray and handed it to her. “Heads it is—and I wish you good luck!” he said.
She picked up her halfpenny, for there was a compelling look in his eye which warned her that she was expected to play the game.
“Thank you,” she said, finding nothing else to say.
He drew himself up with a comic assumption of the grand manner. His little beady eyes twinkled humorous appreciation of her action.
“You’re welcome, miss,” he said ceremoniously, and turning, tramped away with his salver under his arm.