KIPPS
lower windows and brass-railed blinds above. There was a splendid tropical plant in a large artistic pot in the drawing-room window. There was a splendid bronzed knocker (ring also) and two bells—one marked "servants." Gollys! Servants, eh?
He walked past it, with his eyes regarding it, and then turned and came back. He passed through a further indecision, and finally drifted away to the sea front and sat down on a seat a little way along the Leas and put his arm over the back and regarded "Hughenden." He whistled an air very softly to himself, put his head first on one side and then on the other. Then for a space he scowled fixedly at it.
A very stout old gentleman, with a very red face and very protuberant eyes, sat down beside Kipps, removed a Panama hat of the most abandoned desperado cut, and mopped his brow and blew. Then he began mopping the inside of his hat. Kipps watched him for a space, wondering how much he might have a year, and where he bought his hat. Then "Hughenden" reasserted itself.
An impulse overwhelmed him. "I say," he said, leaning forward, to the old gentleman.
The old gentleman started and stared.
"Whad do you say?" he asked fiercely.
"You wouldn't think," said Kipps, indicating with his forefinger, "that that 'ouse there belongs to me."
The old gentleman twisted his neck round to look at "Hughenden." Then he came back to Kipps, looked at his mean little garments with apoplectic intensity and blew at him by way of reply.
"It does," said Kipps, a little less confidently.
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