The barman laughed, and reached for an empty mug, grasping the beer-pump handle.
“That dream’s good enough for the ‘Crown,’” he said. “Better have some bread and cheese with it.”
“Yes. Be quick, man.”
Standing there, Braunt ate and drank ravenously.
“I can get you a plate of cold meat,” said the barman, seeing how hungry the man was. The other nodded, and the plate, with knife and fork, was placed before him.
“So the strike’s off, is it?” said the man, leaning his arms on the bar.
“It’ll be off when Ah get there.”
“Well, it’s not a minute too soon. Our trade’s suffered.”
“More than your trade has suffered, worse luck. Dom little you’ll do for a man, unless the money’s in ta pouch.”
“Oh, if it comes to that, neither will other people. We’re not giving out-door relief, any more than our neighbours.”