"Excuses are not for us,
nowadays. You'll have to tell the truth. I'm afraid you've rather put
your foot in it."
Mr. Waddington became thoughtful. The young lady, having disposed of
some other customers, returned to her place. She rubbed the counter for
a few minutes with a duster which hung from the belt around her waist.
Then she leaned over once more towards them.
"It's a pity Maud's off duty, Mr. Burton," she remarked. "She's been
asking about you pretty nearly every day."
A vision of Maud rose up before Burton's eyes. First of all he
shivered. Then in some vague, unwholesome sort of manner he began to
find the vision attractive. He found himself actually wishing that she
were there--a buxom young woman with dyed hair and sidelong glances, a
loud voice, and a distinct fancy for flirtations.
"She is quite well, I hope?" he said.
"Oh, Maudie's all right!" the young lady replied. "Fortunately for her,
she's like me--she don't lay too much store on the things you gentlemen
say when you come in. Staying away for months at a time!" she continued
indignantly. "I'm ashamed of both of you. It's the way we girls always
get treated. I shall tell them to lay for you for lunch to-day,
anyway.
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