"Thank you," he said. "If any one can get in, I will."
A moment later Mrs. Bread proposed, deferentially, to retire, but he
checked her and put a lighted candle into her hand. "There are half a
dozen rooms there I don't use," he said, pointing through an open door.
"Go and look at them and take your choice. You can live in the one
you like best." From this bewildering opportunity Mrs. Bread at first
recoiled; but finally, yielding to Newman's gentle, reassuring push, she
wandered off into the dusk with her tremulous taper. She remained absent
a quarter of an hour, during which Newman paced up and down, stopped
occasionally to look out of the window at the lights on the Boulevard,
and then resumed his walk. Mrs. Bread's relish for her investigation
apparently increased as she proceeded; but at last she reappeared and
deposited her candlestick on the chimney-piece.
"Well, have you picked one out?" asked Newman.
"A room, sir? They are all too fine for a dingy old body like me. There
isn't one that hasn't a bit of gilding."
"It's only tinsel, Mrs. Bread," said Newman. "If you stay there a while
it will all peel off of itself." And he gave a dismal smile.
"Oh, sir, there are things enough peeling off already!" rejoined Mrs.
Bread, with a head-shake. "Since I was there I thought I would look
about me.
Pages:
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489