Beasley shook his head.
“Nuthin’ doin’,” he said facetiously.
“Then you—you are a despicable coward,” she cried. “You—oh!” And she almost fled out of the hated creature’s storeroom.
Beasley looked after her. The satisfaction had gone from his eyes, leaving them wholly vindictive.
“Coward, am I, ma’m!” he muttered. Then he looked at the order for furniture which was still in his hand.
The sight of it made him laugh.