I was unwilling
to rush away abruptly from the presence of such a charming young
lady, but she provoked me to it; indeed, I was only prevented from
carrying out my design by my failure to discern the hole in the wall
through which I had been inveigled into that department. "If you
would be so good as to give me my change," I stammered out, feeling
heartily ashamed at the thought of wanting the change at all.
"Certainly sir." Then she proceeded to make out the bill. "Oh, never
mind about the bill," I said, "I'm rather in a hurry." Of this appeal
she took no notice. "Sign, please," she said to the young lady at her
elbow. "Pins, one farthing," she added to my utter confusion. The
second young lady made a wild flourish over the bill with her pencil
and turned away. My fair tormentor slowly wrapped my penny in the
bill, screwed up the whole inside a large wooden ball, jerked a
dangling cord at her elbow, then stood looking me straight in the
face as the ball went rolling along a set of tramway lines over our
heads to the other end of the shop. That was the most melancholy game
at skittles I ever took part in. It seemed an age before the ball
came back to us, whereupon the young lady took out the bill and my
change--a halfpenny.
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