“Shut up.”
At this moment a small boy walked out of the shop.
“Hallo!” said Ginger, with a fatuous smile of friendship.
“Hallo!” said the boy, ungraciously.
Ginger moistened his lips and repeated the fatuous smile.
“Have you got any new clothes to-day?”
The boy gave a fairly good imitation of the fatuous smile.
“No,” he said, “have you? Don’t go spoilin’ your fice for me. It’s bee-utiful, but don’t waste it on me.”
Then, whistling, he prepared to walk away from Ginger down the road. Desperately Ginger stopped him.
“I’ll—I’ll—I’ll give you,” he swallowed, then, with an effort, made the nobler offer. “I’ll give you five shillings if——”