"Parding, lydy."
Cuckoo swallowed. She felt as if she had a ball in her throat shifting up and down.
"I say," she repeated. "You buy toy dogs, eh?"
"I buys 'em and I sells 'em," answered the old man, with a large accent on the conjunction. "Buys 'em dear and sells 'em cheap. There's a wy to mike a living, lydy!"
His small eyes twinkled with humour as he spoke.
Cuckoo swallowed again. The ball in her throat was getting larger.
"Want to buy one this morning?" she asked. "A show little dog, eh?"
She choked.
The old man did not appear to notice it. He looked at her with sharp consideration.
"Oh, you means selling!" he remarked. "Where is it, then?"