He led her into a private office at the rear of the shop and gave her a chair by his desk; Jeckie began operations before he had seated himself.
"Mr. Bradingham!" she said. "You know what a fine business I have yonder at Savilestowe?"
Bradingham laughed—there was a note of humour in the sound.
"We all know that who are in the same trade, Miss Farnish," he answered. "I should think you've got all the best families, within six miles round, on your books! You're a wonderful woman, you know."
"Mr. Bradingham," said Jeckie, "I want to sell my business as it stands. I want to devote all my time to yon colliery. I've made lots o' money out of the grocery trade, and lots more out o' what I made in that way, but that's naught to what I'm going to make out o' coal. So—I must sell. Will you buy?—as it stands—stock, goodwill, book debts (all sound, you may be sure, else there wouldn't be any!), vans, carts, everything? I'd rather sell to you than to anybody, 'cause you'll carry it on as I did. You can make a branch of this business of yours, or you can keep up the old name—whichever seems best to you."
Bradingham looked silently at his visitor for what seemed to her a long time.
"That's what you really want, then?" he said at last. "To concentrate on your new venture."
"I don't believe in running two businesses," answered Jeckie. "I'm beginning to feel—I do feel!—that it's got to be one or t'other. And—it's going to be coal!"
"You've sunk a lot in that pit, already?" he remarked.
"Aye—and more than a lot!" responded Jeckie. "But it's naught to what I mean to pull out of it!"