“Alfie,” said Regina in a tone of apprehension, “you are trying to break something to me.”
“Well, in one sense, I am,” he said, smiling; “and on the other hand I am not. Myself I believe in honest character and good solid comfort before all other considerations, and I feel that you will be sensible and do the same. Maudie has still to learn, as far as I know, the exact nature of the way in which the Marksbys’ money is made.”
“Go on,” said Regina, impatiently.
“Well, to go on,” said Mr. Whittaker, “is to let the blow fall without any further fuss.”
“Let it fall!” cried Regina in a tone of tragedy.
“Marksby,” returned Alfred, “is their private name. They trade under a different one.”
“Yes?”
“And Marksby,” went on Alfred, slowly, “is the Twopenny Dinner King.”
“The Twopenny Dinner King!” cried Regina. “You mean they sell twopenny dinners?”
“Yes, Queenie—twopenny dinners. I’m told they are excellent—indeed, young Harry told me so himself just now. He has invited me to go down and have lunch with him one day, and he promises he will give me the regular twopenny fare—not by way of entertaining me, but rather in order to show me that it really could be done at such a price.”