“’Evening all!” cried Mr. Dobb, exhibiting an unusual boisterousness of manner. He clung, swaying gently, to the handle of the door, and beamed owlishly round on the company. “’Evening all—and be blowed to the lot of you!”
The lady behind the counter, with whom it seemed that Mr. Dobb was something of a favourite, shook her finger at him in surprised reproach, and asked him what he meant by it.
“I been keeping off a cold!” explained Mr. Dobb, simply.
“So I should think!” declared the lady.
A glassy look came into Mr. Dobb’s orbs, indicating purposeful concentration. Releasing his grasp on the door, he, as it were, swooped forward and came neatly to rest with his elbows on the counter. This feat achieved, he gazed about him as one seeking plaudits.
“Been keeping off a cold!” he announced again, and performed a little shuffling movement which brought him backwards to the centre of the room. “Look at me boots!” he invited, proudly.
“Why, wherever have you been?” asked the lady. “All that mud!”
“I been keeping—I mean, I been out in the country!” stated Mr. Dobb, returning to the support offered by the bar.
“Been watercressing by the look of it?” suggested the lady, in playful sarcasm.
“Business!” said Mr. Dobb portentously, and looked round as though to balk the intentions of eavesdroppers.