"He's going to open another shop," said Mrs. Bindle.
"Who, the devil?" enquired Bindle in surprise.
"It's going to be in Putney High Street," continued Mrs. Bindle, ignoring Bindle's remark.
Bindle looked up at her with genuine puzzlement on his features.
"Putney 'Igh Street used to be a pretty 'ot place at night before the war," he remarked; "it ain't exactly cool now; but I never thought o' the devil openin' a shop there."
"I said Mr. Hearty," retorted Mrs. Bindle angrily.
"Oh! 'Earty," said Bindle contemptuously. "'Earty'd open anythink except 'is 'eart, or a barrel of apples 'e's sellin', knowin' them to be rotten. Wot's 'e want to open another shop for? 'E's got two already, ain't 'e?"
"Why haven't you got on?" stormed Mrs. Bindle inconsequently. "Why haven't you got three shops?"
"Well!" continued Bindle, "I might 'ave done so, but wot should I sell in 'em?"
"You never got on, you lorst every job you ever got. You'd 'ave lorst me long ago if——"