“Oh, yes, I kept it; but ’ow did you know I was trying to keep a cold off?”
“Why, you told me so last night.”
“Last night?” queried Mr. Dobb, shaking his head. “Why, I never see you last night, sir.”
“In the ‘King’s Arms,’” prompted Mr. Lane.
“I never went in the ‘King’s Arms’ last night!” denied Mr. Dobb. “I came straight ’ome and went to bed. I’m sure of it.”
Mr. Lane was about to contradict, when it was evident that he changed his intention.
“Oh, well, I must have been thinking of some one else,” he said, lightly.
“I don’t know whether you’re interested in furniture, sir,” ventured Mr. Dobb. “But I’ve got some stuff in new to stock this morning, and—”
“I don’t mind having a look at it,” admitted Mr. Lane, almost skipping into the emporium.
“There’s a bedstead for you!” cried the vendor, with enthusiasm. “Real solid, good stuff. Been in a farm’ouse these ’undred years and more.”