“The—what’s-his-name?—Mr Reginald—I suppose he deals with you?”
“He did, if you want to know.”
“I thought so—a friend of mine, you know.”
“Oh, is he?” said the lady, finding words at last, and bridling up in a way that astonished her cross-examiner; “then the sooner you go and walk off after him the better!”
“Oh, very well,” said Sam. “He’s not at home just now, though.”
“Oh, ain’t he?” said the woman, “that’s funny!”
“Why, what do you mean?”
“Oh, nothing—what should I? If you’re a friend of his, you’d better take yourself off! That’s what I mean.”
“All right; no offence, old lady. Perhaps he’s come in by this time.”
The lady laughed disagreeably. The Corporation had bought coals of her three months ago.