“I want a blue thing that’s hanging up in the window, last but one on the top row,” he insisted, disdaining to look at the fluffy abominations spread around him. He was sure they were not like the thing Constantia wore now, but it was too late to retreat.
The young woman showed him one she declared was identical.
“I want the one in the window,” he persisted doggedly.
In the end he got it, paid for it, saw it packed up and addressed, and quenching sundry misgivings in his heart, marched out of the shop and treated himself to a bus homeward.
It is perhaps not out of place to mention here that Jessie had no misgivings as to the real beauty of the present. She had sighed long for such a possession, and having never seen Mrs. Wyatt’s delicate costly wrap, was perfectly content with her own and applauded Christopher’s taste loudly.
CHAPTER IX
Christopher continued to visit the Sartins and to find considerable pleasure in Sam’s companionship, who on his few holidays was only too glad to explore the grey river and its innumerable wharfs with Christopher. Sam was already a fair waterman; he at least spent all his scant leisure and scantier pennies in learning that arduous profession.
Once Mr. Aston visited Block D. with Christopher, and lingered behind gossiping to Mrs. Sartin while the boy went to meet Sam, expected home to tea. Sam got nothing out of his mother anent that conversation except the information that Mr. Aston was “a real Christian gentleman, who knew what trouble was, and don’t you make any mistake, but as ’ow Mr. Christopher was a lucky young gentleman.”