"I am not impatient," owned Conrad.
There were descending footsteps, and a woman opened the door.
He said ingratiatingly, "I am sorry to disturb you, but we're trying to get some flowers. Can you let me have some?"
"Flowers?" said the woman. She had a vacant stare.
"A few bunches of violets," Rosalind explained.
"Y-e-s," murmured the woman. She made a long pause. "We 'aven't got no flowers now," she said. "N—no. I'm sorry we can't oblige you."
"Can you tell us where we can get some?" put in Miss Lascelles sharply.
"No——no, I couldn't say, I'm sure," faltered the woman.... "There's Peters' opperzite—p'raps they might be able to oblige you."
"Do you know where there's a florist's?" questioned Conrad.
"Florist's?" She shook her head. "N—no, I can't say as I do—not one as is likely to be open to-day."