Pinner. But
I won't have tea, if you please. Won't have tea. I drink milk--
_milk_. A lot of milk. I'm a great milk-drinker."
The Rose wriggled. George thumped the basket. "As soon as you like,
Mrs. Pinner. As quick as you like!"
Mrs. Pinner closed the door; the Rose advertised her feelings in a
long, penetrating mi-aow. In an agony of strained listening George
held his breath. But Mrs. Pinner heard nothing; moved steadily
downstairs. He wiped his brow. This was the beginning of it.
When Mrs. Pinner reappeared, jug of milk and covered dish on a tray,
George's plan, after desperate searchings, had come to him.
He gave it speech. "I want to arrange, Mrs. Pinner--"
"If you wait till I've settled the tray, mister, I'll come close to
you. I'm that hard of hearing you wouldn't believe."
George sprang from the basket; approached the table. His life depended
upon keeping a distance between basket and Pinner.
"I want to arrange to have this room as a private sitting-room."
It had never been so used before, but it could be arranged, Mrs.
Pinner told him. She would speak to her 'usband about terms.
"And I want to keep it very private indeed, I don't want anyone to
enter it unless I am here." George mounted his lie and galloped it,
blushing for shame of his steed.
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