“Yes,” growled Mr. Jobling.
“Pay for it?” inquired his wife, with a trace of anxiety.
“Yes,” said Mr. Jobling again.
Mrs. Jobling's face relaxed. “I shouldn't like to lose it at the last moment,” she said. “You 'ave been good to me lately, Bill; buying all these nice things. There's not many women have got such a thoughtful husband as what I have.”
“Have you gone dotty? or what?” enquired her bewildered husband.
“It's no wonder people like you,” pursued Mrs. Jobling, ignoring the question, and smiling again as she placed three chairs at the table. “I'll wait a minute or two before I soak the tea; I expect Miss Robinson won't be long, and she likes it fresh.”
Mr. Jobling, to conceal his amazement and to obtain a little fresh air walked out of the room and opened the front door.
“Cheer oh!” said the watchful Mr. Brown, with a benignant smile.
Mr. Jobling scowled at him.
“It's all right,” said Mr. Brown. “You go in and set down; I'm watching for her.”