Meanwhile William, triumphantly bearing the black coat, made his way up to the Vicar’s wife. He met Ginger and Douglas, also carrying a black coat and on the same mission.
“Bet you tuppence mine’s the one,” said Ginger.
“Bet you tuppence mine is,” said William; “where’d you get yours?”
“We got it out of her hall,” said Douglas cheerfully, “we jus’ walked in an’ got it an’ no one saw us.... I bet ours is the one.”
“Well, come on an’ see,” said William, pushing his way up to the stall presided over by the Vicar’s wife.
“Here’s your coat, Mrs. Marks,” he said handing it to her, “it was sold by mistake off the rubbish stall but we’ve got it back for you—me an’ Henry.”
Before the Vicar’s wife could answer, a frantic messenger came up to her.
“What shall we do?” she moaned. “Miss Poll’s entertaining the tent and the Member can’t speak.”
“Miss Poll!” gasped the Vicar’s wife, “we never asked her.”
“No, but she’s come and she’s singing all her awful songs and no one can stop her and the Member can’t speak.”