"I'll see you damned first."
Nothing, however, could ruffle Bence.
"Just so. But, as I was saying, if you ever should care to do business—well, I'm not far off. Good morning to you."
Mrs. Marsden, when she returned to the inner room, found her husband standing near the desk, sullenly scowling at the floor.
"I was a fool to swear at him. I ought to have kicked him down the shop.... Can you guess what he came about?"
"I'm not clever at guessing. I'll wait till you tell me."
"He wanted us to close more than half the shop, and sublet it to him for the remainder of the lease." And Marsden sullenly and growlingly described the details of this impudent proposal. Bence suggested that the yard and the new packing rooms could be used by him as a warehouse; that all departments to the west of the silk counter might be transferred to the eastern side; that he would build a party wall at his own expense, and use all this western block "for one thing or another." Bence's question in plain words therefore was, Would they now confess to the universe that their premises were about four times too big for their trade?
"Not to be thought of," said Mrs. Marsden.
"No. I suppose not;" and Marsden glanced at her furtively, and then rattled the keys in his pocket. "We won't think of it."