“Ay, but it’s the true way.”

“You’re a bit upset with trouble now, sir. You wait. Why, there’s a fine chance here for a clever man like yourself to set up for himself in the fruit and greengrocery. See what a job it is to get a bit of decent green stuff. I never know what it is. Leastways, I shouldn’t if it weren’t for a friend bringing me in a morsel o’ fruit now and then.”

“Ah, it’s all over with that now, Mr Wimble. Poor master; and we may as well give up all thoughts o’ wedding. Strange set-out it’s been.”

“Ah!” said Wimble; and pat, pat, pat, went the razor over his hand as the lather dried.

“I can’t see much chance for Mr Glyddyr now.”

“Ah! he was going to marry Miss Gartram, wasn’t he?”

“He’d ha’ liked to, and the poor guvnor was on for it; but I know a little more about that than he did.”

“Ah, yes, Mr Brime, lookers-on sees more of the game. I always used to think—but of course it was no business of mine—that it was to be Mr Christopher Lisle, till he seemed to be chucked over like—and for looking elsewhere,” he added between his teeth.

“Looking elsewhere? Gammon!”

“Oh, but he does, sir.”