The conductor rang the bell and leaned dolefully against the stairway as the bus started away from the dispersing crowd.
The girl with the portfolio was regarding her sovereign thoughtfully, holding it between her thumb and forefinger; then she returned it with her handkerchief to her pocket, looked doubtfully round and blushed slightly.
The woman with the baby was biting something, which, as she caught my eye, she hurriedly slipped into her jacket pocket. "Not that I'd be be'olden to anybody," she remarked at large, rocking her baby with much energy, "me 'usband earning good money, thanks be. But peliteness is peliteness——"
"You may think yer know yer way abart," said the conductor, looking at me and jerking his head up and down, "but now and then you find you're left—badly left. Now, think o' that! Droppin' sovereigns all over the place. Well, I wish I'd a'knowed!"
Photo by Landor, Ealing