Peter rubbed his head.
"Wool at a candle shop?"
"Yes, it keeps everything—sweets, oil, candles and haberdashery."
He went out of the room.
"Well, I'm blessed!" ejaculated Dimbie.
"So am I. He looked quite docile, and he's really wonderfully handsome for a man of his age."
Peter was back.
"What colour your mother wishes to know?"
"Colour? Oh, anything!"
"Brown," said Dimbie hastily, turning a reproachful eye upon me.