CHAPTER XVII
IN THE CITY
The fortune seekers were set down at a street corner near the Quay at half-past six.
When it had come to the matter of crossing the harbour, from the Northern Shore to the Quay, in the punt (they two sitting in the cart the while), they had found themselves called upon to pay a penny each for the passage over, which they had enjoyed amazingly. Betty paid both pennies, having the coppers, but she urged John to be quick and get his shilling changed to pay her back.
At the street corner John suggested leaving her for awhile. "This would be as good a corner as any other for you, Betty," he said, and slapped the shutters of a chemist's shop as he spoke, "You stand here, and you'll catch everybody who goes by."
"There's no one going by yet," said Betty. "What are you going to do? You're not going to leave me all alone?"
"Well," said John, "we might stick together a bit longer, anyway. I'll come back for you. You sing your song, and I'll just go and see if any shops want a boy. I don't suppose the offices are opened yet. What I'd like is a good warehouse, and then I'd rise to be manager, and partner. That's the sort of thing. I don't think there's much in a shop after all, but I'll have to find out where the warehouses are. A tea warehouse is good, I can tell you. You get sent out to India for the firm, and then come back and are made a partner."
He started off, only to be stopped after he had gone a few steps, by Betty's voice calling, "Get your shilling changed, I want my penny"; to which he nodded.
Betty had the corner all to herself then. Down the street, and up the street, and down the side street, whichever way she craned her neck she could see no one.
It seemed to her a very good opportunity to try her powers. So she commenced. At first it must be confessed she made no more sound than she had done in talking to John. And the street was so used to voices that it did not open an eye.