This was the way Mrs. Hobbs relieved her feelings when her pre-emptive right to be sole Chancellor of the Exchequer was infringed upon. Tom did not answer; he was already seated, decapitating in a masterly manner the pink fish.
“And where have you been?” continued Mrs. Hobbs, pouring out the tea. “One would think you had been to see some fancy girl.”
“And so I have, Bell,” said Tom, as calmly as possible.
“And you dare to come home and tell me to my face, you vagabond!”
“Take it easy, old girl! All in the way of business. You know my inquiries about Israel were a frost, so I determined to-day to try a fresh line. I would look up Mrs. Booth’s antecedents, and with this object I called at the Golden Bar, and did a bit of a mash with a barmaid there they call Ruby.”
“And you had the impudence to go talking to one of those brazen-faced painted hussies? I thought better of you, Tom.”
“In the way of business, my dear, I would talk to anybody. And she’s not half a bad sort,” said Hobbs provokingly, as his wife sniffed. “She as good as said she would meet me on Sunday if I would take her out for a drive.”
“And I suppose you are going to?”
“Well, I did think of it; but perhaps it is hardly necessary. She has told me pretty well all she knows about Mrs. Booth’s history.”
“And what did that amount to?”