"Well--" she hesitated. "Mrs. Tams told me they were selling Singapore
pineapple at sevenpence-halfpenny. Mas. Maldon fancies pineapple. I've
known her fancy a bit of pineapple when she wouldn't touch anything
else.... Yes, there it is!"
In fact, the whole of the upper half of Wason's window was yellow
with tins of preserved pineapple. And great tickets said: "Delicious
chunks, 7 1/2d. per large tin. Chunks, 6 1/2d. per large tin."
Customers in ones and twos kept entering and leaving the shop. Rachel
moved on towards the door, which was at the corner of the Cock yard,
and looked within. The long double counters were being assailed by
a surging multitude who fought for the attention of prestidigitatory
salesmen.
"Hm!" murmured Rachel. "That may be all very well for Mrs. Tams...."
A moment later she said--
"It's always like that with Wason's shops for the first week or two!"
And her faintly sarcastic tone of a shrewd housewife immediately set
Wason in his place--Wason with his two hundred and sixty-five shops,
and his racing-cars, and his visits to kings and princes. Wason had
emporia all over the kingdom, and in particular at Knype, Hanbridge,
and Longshaw. And now he had penetrated to Bursley, sleepiest of
the Five.
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