And at the bottom of the menu was printed in bold red characters,
'No meat, no disease. Ergo, no meat, no sin.
Fellow-citizens, leave your carnal foods,
and try a more excellent way.
I. E. Push the door and walk in.
The Fruit and Flowers Parlour
invites everybody and overcharges nobody.'
The youth did not trouble, however, to read the notice. He knew it and the 'Parlour' behind it by heart. But he moved away, pondering the menu with a smile.
In his amused abstraction—at the root of which lay the appetite of eighteen—he suddenly ran into a passer-by, who stumbled against a shop window with an exclamation of pain. The youth's attention was attracted and he stopped awkwardly.
'People of your height, young man, should look before them,' said the victim, rubbing what seemed to be a deformed leg, while his lips paled a little.
'Mr. Ancrum,' cried the other, amazed.
'Davy!'
The two looked at each other. Then Mr. Ancrum gripped the lad's arm.
'Help me along, Davy. It's only a bruise. It'll go off. Where are you going?'
'Up Piccadilly way with a parcel,' said Davy, looking askance at his companion's nether man. 'Did I knock your bad leg, sir?'