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 ejaculating 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 illustrated. "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,
