“Grocery business. I’ve told him. Ever since I was a bit of a chap that high I’ve wanted it. I never could get a job in a shop, but if I was regularly apprenticed now—if that wasn’t too much?”
Aymer’s glance meandered thoughtfully to the distant Christopher, still staring out of the window; a shadow of a smile rose to his lips.
“Yes, that would not be difficult to manage, Sam. How old are you?”
“Over sixteen, sir. There’s money in grocery, sir. I could pay it back. I’m sure I could.”
Aymer lay still, thinking. “What sort of schooling have you had? Not much? Passed the fifth standard young?”
“But it takes a long time for a ’prentice to work up,” said Sam, watching him eagerly.
“I’m thinking of another way,” said Aymer slowly. “Christopher.”
He rejoined them, standing by the grate and kicking the logs into place. He did not look at Aymer.
“Sam has been telling me of his wishes,” said Aymer. “I think them quite excellent, but I’ve not quite decided on the best way to carry them out. Go away and get your dinner and come back to me afterwards.”
The boys departed, and once in Christopher’s den, the host turned to his guest questioningly.