“Secondly: ‘Two coaches start at the same time for York and London, a distance of 200 miles, travelling one at nine and a half miles an hour, the other at nine and a quarter miles; where will they meet, and in what time from starting?’”
He gave his nose a finishing touch with his handkerchief, closed his note-book, and turned to Dexter.
“Now then,” he said. “Let us see.”
He took the sheet of paper, looked at one side, turned it over and looked at the other, and then raised his eyes to Dexter’s, which avoided his gaze directly.
“What is this?” he cried.
“The equations, sir,” said Dexter humbly.
“Tut—tut—tut!” ejaculated Mr Limpney. “Was there ever such a boy? plus where it ought to be minus, and—why, what’s this!”
“This, sir?” said Dexter. “Half-crowns.”
“But it was to be oranges. How many did he buy? and here you say he bought ninety-seven half-crowns. I don’t know how you arrived at it, or what you mean. A man does not go to a shop to buy half-crowns. He spent half a crown in oranges.”
“Yes, sir.”