They all began to laugh, evidently with approval, while I bit my lips and tried to look as if I also liked it, although I think it was one of the worst minutes of my life.
'Well,' said Loveridge, 'we shall see what we get for our money.'
Mrs. Loveridge muttered something which I could not understand, and Mr. Parsons shook his head with a significant frown.
'Trust me for that,' he answered. 'Come along, Jacky! Handsome is that handsome does, you know.'
A few minutes later we were again out in the street, and while any casual passer-by would have imagined that I was accompanied by an affectionate old gentleman who held my arm, I knew very well what was his real motive. It was a hot afternoon, and presently we took an omnibus to Oxford Circus, where we at once turned down a side street.
'I dare say you are thirsty, my lad,' he exclaimed, suddenly. 'Now, two or three doors from here there's a nice shop where they sell delicious ginger-beer—a penny the bottle. Go and get yourself a bottle, Jacky.'
'I—I don't want any,' I answered, as he took a coin from his pocket.
'Jacky,' he said, looking full into my face, 'you will find it always best to do as you're told. Go and get yourself a bottle of ginger-beer, my lad.'