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MR. COOTE, THE CHAPERON
BK. II

pounds—yes, there—Clinchers ten, Dunlop's eleven, Ladies' one pound more—that's the lady's. Best machine at a democratic price in London. No guineas and no discounts—honest trade. I build 'em—to order. I've built," he reflected, looking away seaward—"seventeen. Counting orders in 'and.… Come down to look at the old place a bit. Mother likes it at times."

"Thought you'd all gone away——"

"What! after my father's death? No! My mother's come back, and she's living at Muggett's cottages. The sea air suits 'er. She likes the old place better than Hammersmith … and I can afford it. Got an old crony or so here.… Gossip … have tea.… S'pose you ain't married, Kipps?"

Kipps shook his head, "I——" he began.

"I am," said Sid. "Married these two years and got a nipper. Proper little chap."

Kipps got his word in at last. "I got engaged day before yesterday," he said.

"Ah!" said Sid airily. "That's all right. Who's the fortunate lady?"

Kipps tried to speak in an offhand way. He stuck his hands in his pockets as he spoke. "She's a solicitor's daughter," he said, "in Folkstone. Rather'r nice set. County family. Related to the Earl of Beaupres——"

"Steady on!" cried Sid.

"You see, I've 'ad a bit of luck, Sid. Been lef money."