He stood looking down at us as though we were something he didn't quite know what to do with, and then an idea seemed to strike him, and be vanished for a moment to reappear almost immediately in the square gap of the bar window.
"Have a drink while you're waiting?" he asked, much more naturally.
I looked at my watch. It was half-past four. Very free-and-easy with the licensing laws, I thought.
"I thought six o'clock was opening time?" I said.
The thin man was overcome with confusion. His face flushed red, he shut the window down with a bang, and a moment after came round to us again.
"Awfully sorry," he stammered apologetically. "Might get the house a bad name. Deuced inconsiderate of—of my uncle not to leave me a book of the rules. Very bad break, that—what?"
Evidently Tony was not so much impressed by the eccentricities of our host as was I. She approved of the hotel and its situation, and had made up her mind to stop. I could tell it by her face as she addressed the proprietor.
"Have you accommodation if we should make up our minds to stay here for a few days?" she asked.
"Stay here? You want to stay?" he repeated, consternation written large all over his face. "Good G—— I mean certainly, of course, of course."
He bolted down the passage like a rabbit, and we heard hoarse whispering from the direction in which he had gone.