Evarne considered that was far too dear for such a wee portion. She wasn't going to be cheated because she was nicely dressed; she just wouldn't have that piece! Settling upon a thin chop, she once again made business-like inquiries concerning its price. Strange! This was even smaller than her first choice, yet it was tenpence likewise.
This was really puzzling. Ah! Perhaps it was tenpence a piece, regardless of size. It didn't seem likely, but if so, she would see that she got her money's worth, and lifting up the largest portion of all she once more succeeded in attracting the butcher's attention.
"How much is this bit, then?" she inquired.
The unkind butcher man actually got rude. "Lor' love yer, can't yer 'ear me a-telling yer it's tenpence, and ain't it printed plain enough?"
Evarne was affronted by this unaccustomed disrespect.
"I'll take this piece, then," she announced with the air of a duchess, whereupon the man, in no ways abashed, promptly flung it out of sight under a row of hanging joints, into the interior of the shop.
Evarne remained stationary.
"Walk inside, miss," cried the man, as the crowd jostled, and others claimed his attention.
The girl obeyed. In its turn her choice was put on the scales.
"Thirteen ounces, sevenpence-halfpenny," cried the weigher, wrapping it up with all speed in a bit of newspaper and handing it over.