“You need tickets to be present at the annual concert in aid of the Policemen’s Orphanage, and I strongly advocate the purchase of ’alf a dozen of the five-shilling.”
“How much are the five-shilling?”
“Five shillings, sir.”
“But I’ve only got a ten-pound note on me.”
“Bring your change to your ’ome to-morrow.”
Sam became aware with a shudder of self-loathing that he was allowing this night of nights to be marred by sordid huckstering.
“Never mind the change,” he said.
“Sir?”
“Keep it all. I’m going to be married,” he added in explanation.
“Keep the ’ole ten pounds, sir?” quavered the stupefied officer.