"Tell your husband I wish to see him," he said.
The landlady looked up, fumbled with a napkin, and answered nervously, "Yes, sir." Then she hobbled to the door of the parlor and opened it. A wave of mingled noise, vapor, and foul odors came through the aperture. "Tommy!" she screamed above the babel.
The landlord appeared.
"Can you send me a dog-cart at half past four in the morning?" said Hugh.
"Maybe—it's a gay canny hour, I reckon," said the landlord.
He pulled at a long pipe as he spoke, and his face, which was flushed, wore an impudent smile.
"I have to catch the five-o'clock train," Hugh answered.
"To London?" One cheek was twisted into numerous wrinkles.
"I said the five train," said Hugh, sternly. "Can you do it?"
"I's niver said nay—it'll be three half-crowns."