his teeth.… Besides which the bookstall wasn't open. His white face, lit by a vast excitement, bid them a tremendous farewell, and he departed through the sunlight, with his buoyant walk, buoyant almost to the tottering pitch. His hair, as one got it sunlit in the street, seemed to have grown in the night.
They saw him stop a newsboy.
"Every blessed rag," floated to them on the notes of that gorgeous voice.
The newsboy, too, had happened on luck. Something like a faint cheer from the newsboy came down the air to terminate that transaction.
Chitterlow went on his way swinging a great budget of papers, a figure of merited success. The newsboy recovered from his emotion with a jerk, examined something in his hand again, transferred it to his pocket, watched Chitterlow for a space, and then in a sort of hushed silence resumed his daily routine.…
Ann and Kipps watched that receding happiness in silence, until he vanished round the bend of the road.
"I am glad," said Ann at last, speaking with a little sigh.
"So'm I," said Kipps, with emphasis. "For if ever a feller 'as worked and waited—it's 'im." …
They went back through the shop rather thoughtfully, and after a peep at the sleeping baby, resumed their interrupted breakfast. "If ever a feller 'as worked and waited, it's 'im," said Kipps, cutting bread.
