“You see you can’t do it. Have you found anything to do this morning?”
“No,” said Tom.
“Business isn’t good, hey?”
“No,” said Tom, “but I wouldn’t mind so much if I hadn’t had my money stole. I’m bust!”
“How’s that? Did the bank break or have you been speculating?”
“Oh, you’re gasin’! I aint got nothing to do with banks. Somebody stole two shillin’s I had, so I’ve had no breakfast.”
“Come, that’s bad. I guess I must give you a job, after all. You can’t carry my bag, but you can carry this.”
He had under his arm something wrapped in a paper, making a small bundle. He handed it to Tom, and she trudged along with it after him.
“You couldn’t guess what that is, I suppose?” said her companion, sociably.
“No,” said Tom; “it feels soft.”