It was a very neat little bar, with
the usual display of bottles and glasses; a sedate clock, right to
the minute (it was half-past five); everything in its place, and
everything furbished and polished up to the very utmost.
'It's the first time I've sat down quietly to-day, I declare,' said
Mrs. Britain, taking a long breath, as if she had sat down for the
night; but getting up again immediately to hand her husband his
tea, and cut him his bread-and-butter; 'how that bill does set me
thinking of old times!'
'Ah!' said Mr. Britain, handling his saucer like an oyster, and
disposing of its contents on the same principle.
'That same Mr. Michael Warden,' said Clemency, shaking her head at
the notice of sale, 'lost me my old place.'
'And got you your husband,' said Mr. Britain.
'Well! So he did,' retorted Clemency, 'and many thanks to him.'
'Man's the creature of habit,' said Mr. Britain, surveying her,
over his saucer. 'I had somehow got used to you, Clem; and I found
I shouldn't be able to get on without you. So we went and got made
man and wife. Ha! ha! We! Who'd have thought it!'
'Who indeed!' cried Clemency. 'It was very good of you, Ben.'
'No, no, no,' replied Mr. Britain, with an air of self-denial.
'Nothing worth mentioning.'
'Oh yes it was, Ben,' said his wife, with great simplicity; 'I'm
sure I think so, and am very much obliged to you.
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