'But he's the king's baker,' said Curdie, more and more surprised at the man's anger.
'What's that to me? This is a free city. Every man here takes care of himself, and the king takes care of us all. I'll have the price of my window out of you, or the exchequer shall pay for it.'
Something caught Curdie's eye. He stooped, picked up a piece of the stone he had just broken, and put it in his pocket.
'I suppose you are going to break another of my windows with that stone!' said the barber.
'Oh no,' said Curdie. 'I didn't mean to break your window, and I certainly won't break another.'
'Give me that stone,' said the barber.
Curdie gave it him, and the barber threw it over the city wall.
'I thought you wanted the stone,' said Curdie.
'No, you fool!' answered the barber. 'What should I want with a stone?'
Curdie stooped and picked up another.