as a matter of fact, perfectly clear about anything), but he knew that there was a quality about his status that was—detrimental.
Under the circumstances?
It occurred to him that it would save a lot of trouble to destroy the advertisement there and then.
In which case he would have to explain to Chitterlow!
"Eng!" said Mr. Kipps.
"Kipps," cried Carshot, who was shopwalking; "Kipps, Forward!"
He thrust back the crumpled paper into his pocket and sallied forth to the customers.
"I want," said the customer, looking vaguely about her through glasses, "a little bit of something to cover a little stool I have. Anything would do—a remnant or anything"
The matter of the advertisement remained in abeyance for half an hour, and at the end the little stool was still a candidate for covering and Kipps had a thoroughly representative collection of the textile fabrics in his department to clear away. He was so angry about the little stool that the crumpled advertisement lay for a space in his pocket, absolutely forgotten.
§2
Kipps sat on his tin box under the gas bracket that evening, and looked up the name Euphemia and
