"Oh, then you do," said poppa. "You parlay Anglay. That's a good thing
I'm sure, for I know mighty little Fransay. May I ask what sort of
accommodation you can give Mrs. Wick, Miss Wick, and myself for
to-night? Anything on the first floor?"
"What rooms you require are one double one single, yes? Certainly.
Francois, _trente-cinq et trente-huit_." She handed Francois the keys
and her sense of humour disappeared in a smile which told poppa that he
might, if he liked, consider her a fine woman. He, wishing doubtless to
bask in it to the fullest extent, produced his book of tickets.
"I expect you've seen these before," he said, apparently for the
pleasure of continuing the conversation.
[Illustration: "I expect you've seen these before."]
As her eye fell upon them a look of startled cynicism suddenly replaced
the smile. Her cynicism was paradoxical, she was so large, and sound and
wholesome, and the more irritating on this account.
"You 'ave the coupons!" she exclaimed. "Ah-a-ah!" in a crescendo of
astonishment at our duplicity. "Then I 'ave made one mistake.
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