"Oh, good-morning," said Myra. She had added a hat and a sunshade to
her evening-frock, and was supported by me in a gentleman's
lounge-coat and boater for Henley wear.
"Good-morning, mum," said Archie, hitching up his apron and
spreading his hands on the table in front of him.
"I just want this ribbon matched, please."
"Certainly, mum. Won't your little boy--I beg pardon, the old
gentleman, take a seat too? What colour did you want the ribbon,
mum?"
"The same colour as this," I said. "Idiot."
"Your grandfather is in a bit of a draught, I'm afraid, mum. It
always stimulates the flow of language. My grandfather was just the
same. I'm afraid, mum, we haven't any ribbon as you might say the
SAME colour as this."
"If it's very near it will do."
"Now what colour would you call that?" wondered Archie, with his
head on one side. "Kind of puce-like, I should put it at.
Puce-magenta, as we say in the trade. No; we're right out of puce-
magenta."
"Show the lady what you have got," I said sternly.
"Well, mum, I'm right out of ribbon, altogether. The fact is I'm
more of an ironmonger really. The draper's is just the other side of
the road. You wouldn't like a garden-roller now? I can do you a nice
garden-roller for two pound five, and that's simply giving it away."
"Oh, shall we have a nice roller?" said Myra eagerly.
"I'm not going to carry it home," I said.
"That's all right, sir. My little lad will take it up on his
bicycle. Two pounds five, mum, and sixpence for the mouse-trap the
gentleman's been sitting on. Say three pounds."
Myra took out her purse.