"Oh, sir, we had two shillin's on the skirt not so long ago," pleaded Pennyloaf, with a subservient voice. "Make it two shillin's,—please do, sir!"
The young man paid no attention; he was curling his moustache and exchanging a smile of intelligence with his counter-companion with respect to a piece of business the latter had in hand. Of a sudden he turned and said sharply:
"Well, are you goin' to take it or not?"
Pennyloaf sighed and nodded.
"Got a 'apenny?" he asked.
"No."
He fetched a cloth, rolled the articles in it very tightly, and pinned them up; then he made out ticket and duplicate, handling his pen with facile flourish, and having blotted the little piece of card on a box of sand (a custom which survives in this conservative profession), he threw it to the customer. Lastly, he counted out one shilling and fivepence halfpenny. The coins were sandy, greasy, and of scratched surface.
