"Mr. Geoffrey," she said, glaring still, "them candies must ha' cost you a sight o' money?"
"True, certain monies were expended, Mrs. Trapes."
"They must ha' cost you well nigh a dollar-fifty, I reckon?"
"They did!" nodded Mr. Ravenslee, smiling.
"My land!" exclaimed Mrs. Trapes, and vanished again.
Mr. Ravenslee was sighing over a hideously striped shirt when Mrs. Trapes was back again, flourishing a very large tablespoon.
"Mr. Geoffrey," said she, "it's nigh forty years since any one bought me a box o' chocolates! An' now they look so cute all done up in them gold an' silver wrappings as I don't wanter eat 'em—seems a sin, it do. But—Mr. Geoffrey I—I'd like to—thank ye—" and lo, she was gone again!
Mr. Ravenslee had just pitched the striped shirt out of the window when behold, Mrs. Trapes was back yet once more, this time grasping a much battered but more bepolished dish cover.
"Mr. Geoffrey," said she, "I ain't good at thankin' folks, no, I ain't much on gratitood—never having had much to gratify over—but them candies is goin' to be consoomed slow an' reverent and in a proper sperrit o' gratitood. And now if you're ready to eat your supper, your supper's a-waitin' to be ate!"
So saying, she led the way into the parlour, where upon a snowy cloth, in a dish tastefully garnished with fried tomatoes, the English mutton chop reposed, making the very most of itself; the which Mr. Ravenslee forthwith proceeded to attack with surprising appetite and gusto.