But we are forced to admit that Clive gave not a thought to it. He scudded across the field with Masters, dashed through the front gates and away down the road till they came to the tuck. It is a fascinating little shop, and here again we must admit that its contents appealed more strongly to Clive than did the surroundings.
"Never been in before, eh?" asked Masters slyly, well knowing the fact that Clive had not.
"Never; wish I had. Rippin', ain't it?"
"Not half bad," admitted Masters casually. "A chap can stuff himself full here for next to nothing. By the way——"
"Eh?" asked Clive, who was regarding a pile of apple tarts with close attention. "How much, please?" he asked the attendant.
"A penny each, sir."
"Cheap!" murmured Clive. "Oh, what where you saying, Masters?"
He was carefully inspecting the contents of his purse by then, and not looking particularly at Masters. It was not precisely what that young gentleman wanted. He coughed loudly. "Oh, never mind," he said lamely. "I—I didn't say anything."
It was such an obvious fib that Clive stared at him.
"Oh, did I?" then remarked Masters. "Oh, yes, I remember. But it doesn't matter."