As the boy spoke he deposited a pair of huge, ungainly yellow slippers close beside the young man's dainty feet.
Antony glanced but once at them and stepped back, almost appalled.
'Goodness!' he cried. 'What are these? Take the horrid—er—take them away, boy.'
'A pair o' slippers wot belongs to the boss, sir. Oh, I'm sure 'e wouldn't mind yer awearin' of 'em. Boss ain't a bad sort—sometimes.'
'There, there, you're a thoughtful lad, I'm sure; but—er—if you don't mind, I'll wait for my boots.'
'Gemman wants ter see ye, sir,' said Chops a minute after.
The 'gemman' was the porter from the station, carrying Frank Antony's bag on his left shoulder. He was smiling and pleasant, quite in keeping with the sunny morning.
'I thank you, porter. This is ever so kind of you.'
'First train no' due yet, captain, for an hour and mair. Thought ye might be needin' something oot o' the bag, and so here it is. No, as sure as death, I'll no' tak' a penny. Weel, captain, as you are so pressin'. Thanks; and I'll drink your very good health as soon's the train's oot o' the station.'
The porter had barely gone ere Skeleton hove in sight with a small tray and the morning cup of tea.