Part 63 (1/2)

”Artie,” she got to at last and began to weep, clinging tightly to him.

”Pretty near certain,” said Kipps, holding her. ”A fousand pounds!”

”I _said_, Artie,” she wailed on his shoulder with the note of acc.u.mulated wrongs, ”very likely it wasn't so bad.”...

”There's things,” he said, when presently he came to particulars, ”'e couldn't touch. The noo place! It's freehold and paid for, and with the bit of building on it, there's five or six 'undred pound p'raps--say worf free 'undred, for safety. We can't be sold up to finish it, like we thought. O' Bean says we can very likely sell it and get money. 'E says you often get a chance to sell a 'ouse lessen 'arf done, 'specially free'old. _Very_ likely, 'e say. Then there's Hughenden. Hughenden 'asn't been mortgaged not for more than 'arf its value. There's a 'undred or so to be got on that, and the furniture and the rent for the summer still coming in. 'E says there's very likely other things. A fousand pounds, that's what 'e said. 'E said it might even be more.”...

They were sitting now at the table.

”It alters everything,” said Ann.

”I been thinking that, Ann, all the way 'ome. I came in the motor car.

First ride I've 'ad since the smash. We needn't send off Gwendolen, leastways not till _after_. You know. We needn't turn out of 'ere--not for a long time. What we been doing for the o' people we can go on doing a'most as much. And your mother!... I wanted to 'oller coming along. I pretty near run coming down the road by the hotel.”

”Oh, I _am_ glad we can stop 'ere and be comfortable a bit,” said Ann.

”I _am_ glad for that.”

”I pretty near told the driver on the motor--only 'e was the sort won't talk.... You see, Ann, we'll be able to start a shop, we'll be able to get _into_ something like. All about our 'aving to go back to places and that; all that doesn't matter any more.”

For a while they abandoned themselves to e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.n.g. transports. Then they fell talking to shape an idea to themselves of the new prospect that opened before them.

”We must start a sort of shop,” said Kipps, whose imagination had been working. ”It'll 'ave to be a shop.”

”Drapery?” said Ann.

”You want such a lot of capital for the drapery, mor'n a thousand pounds you want by a long way--to start it anything like proper.”

”Well, outfitting. Like Buggins was going to do.”

Kipps glanced at that for a moment, because the idea had not occurred to him. Then he came back to his prepossession.

”Well, I thought of something else, Ann,” he said. ”You see, I've always thought a little book-shop. It isn't like the drapery--'aving to be learnt. I thought--even before this smash-up--'ow I'd like to 'ave something to do, instead of always 'aving 'olidays always like we 'ave been 'aving.”

He reflected.

”You don't know _much_ about books, do you, Artie?”

”You don't want to.” He ill.u.s.trated. ”I noticed when we used to go to that Lib'ry at Folkestone, ladies weren't anything like what they was in a draper's--if you 'aven't got _just_ what they want it's 'Oh, no!' and out they go. But in a book shop it's different. One book's very like another--after all, what is it? Something to read and done with. It's not a thing that matters like print dresses or serviettes--where you either like 'em or don't, and people judge you by. They take what you give 'em in books and lib'ries, and glad to be told _what_ to. See 'ow we was--up at that lib'ry.”...

He paused. ”You see, Ann----

”Well, I read 'n 'dvertis.e.m.e.nt the other day. I been asking Mr. Bean. It said--five 'undred pounds.”

”What did?”

”Branches,” said Kipps.

Ann failed to understand. ”It's a sort of thing that gets up book shops all over the country,” said Kipps. ”I didn't tell you, but I arst about it a bit. On'y I dropped it again. Before this smash, I mean. I'd thought I'd like to keep a shop for a lark, on'y then I thought it silly. Besides it 'ud 'ave been beneath me.”

He blushed vividly. ”It was a sort of projek of mine, Ann.