The toast sandwiches were promptly placed before him, and he sat eating and drinking,—not really hungry, but avidly gulping the wine; and rapidly becoming jolly again.
"What was I talking about?"
"Bence's."
"Oh, yes. I tell you, he has just about got to the end of his tether. All the best people funk having him on their books.... I give him two years from to-day."
"I wonder."
"Mind you, he has fairly smacked us in the eye with his furniture."
And it was unfortunately but too true that there had of late been an ugly drop in the sales of Thompson's solid, well-made chairs and tables.
"But," continued Marsden, "we aren't going to take it lying down any longer. He has got a man to reckon with henceforth. He'll learn what tit-for-tat means.... It was too late to attempt anything last Christmas. But let him wait till next December. Then it shall be, A very happy Christmas to you, Mr. Bence."
"What do you propose for Christmas?"
"You wait, too."