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 'dvertlsement 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.
"On'y it wouldn't 'ave done," he added.
It was a tortuous journey when the KIppses set out to explain anything to each other. But through a maze of fragmentary elucidations and questions, their minds did presently begin to approximate to a picture of a compact, bright, little shop, as a framework for themselves.
