Ann replied distantly.
"Something to tell you," said Kipps; "something noo!"
Ann appeared apprehensive from the kitchen.
"Ann," he said, going before her into the little dining-room, for his news was too dignified for the passage, "very likely, Ann, o' Bean says, we shall 'ave" He decided to prolong the suspense. "Guess!"
"I can't, Artie."
"Think of a lot of money!"
"A 'undred pounds p'raps?"
He spoke with immense deliberation. "Over a fousand pounds!"
Ann stared and said nothing, only went a shade whiter.
"Over, he said. A'most certainly over."
He shut the dining-room door and came forward hastily, for Ann, it was clear, meant to take this mitigation of their disaster with a complete abandonment of her self-control. She came near flopping; she fell into his arms.
"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 accumulated wrongs, "very likely it wasn't so bad." …
"There's things," he said, when presently he came
