KIPPS
particularly in relation to Coote, but in relation to anyone.
"You doing anything?" he asked.
"Just called with a paypah about the classes."
"Because— Would you care to come up and look at my 'ouse and 'ave a smoke and a chat. Eh?" He made indicative back jerks of the head, and was smitten with a horrible doubt whether possibly this invitation might not be some hideous breach of etiquette. Was it, for example, the correct hour? "I'd be awfully glad if you would," he added.
Mr. Coote begged for a moment while he handed the official-looking envelope to the librarian and then declared himself quite at Kipps' service. They muddled a moment over precedence at each door they went through, and so emerged to the street.
"It feels awful rum to me at first, all this," said Kipps. "'Aving a 'ouse of my own and all that. It's strange, you know. 'Aving all day. Reely I don't 'ardly know what to do with my time.
"D'ju smoke?" he said suddenly, proffering a magnificent gold decorated pigskin cigarette case, which he produced from nothing almost as though it was some sort of trick. Coote hesitated and declined, and then, with great liberality, "Don't let me hinder you. . . ."
They walked a little way in silence, Kipps being chiefly concerned to affect ease in his new clothes and keeping a wary eye on Coote. "It's rather a big windfall," said Coote presently. "It yields you an income———?"
"Twelve 'undred a year," said Kipps. "Bit over—if anything."
164
