“Eh, but it’s a grand thing to be yoong! Ah can’t get no smart yoong gen’lemen to carry my parcels for me, not if they was to see me breakin’ ma back.”
“Why, you’ve got a husband to carry them for you,” said Claire quickly, and not very happily; for Joan laughed again.
“Ay, Miss Claire, but they doan’t do it after they’re married; so do you make t’ moast o’ your time.”
And Joan, with an easy nod which was meant to include both the young people, went through into the hall with leisurely steps.
As she had left behind her a slight feeling of awkward reserve, Claire felt bound to begin with an apology for her.
“She’s rather rough, but, oh, so good,” said she.
“Then if she’s good to you, I can forgive all her roughness,” said Bram.
And the next minute he wished he had not said it.
There was a momentary pause, during which Bram busied himself with the strings of his parcels. With a rapid eye, Miss Biron ran over the various things which the outer wrapper had contained. Then, with a bright flush in her face, she took her purse from her pocket.
“How much do I owe you?” she asked quickly. “Three boxes of candles, eighteenpence. Two boxes of sardines, two and sixpence. Box of figs, half-a-crown——”