The price was four piastres. Jo gave four groschen and the old woman
peered anxiously at the money in her palm.
"It is too much," she said.
Pavlovitch explained that somehow four groschen worked out to more than
four piastres; but we left her to calculate what fractions of a centime
she had gained.
Our old innkeeper looked very truculent when we entered.
"Are you going to lunch here?"
"No; we left word."
"Then you can't stay here."
[Illustration: IN THE BAZAAR OF IPEK.]
[Illustration: STREET COFFEE SELLER IN IPEK.]
We pointed out that her meals were bad and very dear. She retaliated by
making a fearful noise, and invited us to go and sleep at the Europe;
but we remembered the Archbishop's story and stood firm.
"If you don't leave us in peace we will appeal to the Governor."
"Do, do. Go to the Governor," said the old lady, her little girl, a
wry-mouthed charwoman and a little boy whom Jo had noticed stealing our
cigarettes. The dog joined in and barked vociferously.
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