I should be inviting you to lunch at the Golden Lion, playing
billiards in the afternoon, and having a night out at a music hall."
Mr. Waddington nodded sympathetically.
"Poor fellow!" he said. "Seems odd that you should turn up this
morning. I can sympathize with you. Have you noticed my tie?"
Burton nodded approvingly.
"Very pretty indeed," he declared.
"You won't think so when you've had that bean," Mr. Waddington groaned.
"It began to come on with me about an hour ago. I forced myself into
these clothes but the tie floored me. I've a volume of Ruskin here
before me, but underneath, you see," he continued, lifting up the
blotting-paper, "is a copy of Snapshots. I'm fighting it off as long as
I can. The fact is I've a sale this afternoon. I thought if I could
last until after that it might not be a bad thing."
"How's the biz?" Burton asked with a touch of his old jauntiness.
"Going strong, eh?"
"Not so good and not so bad," Mr. Waddington admitted. "We've got over
that boom that started at first when people didn't understand things.
They seem to regard me now with a mixture of suspicion and contempt.
All the same, we get a good many outside buyers in, and we've pulled
along all right up till now.
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