"Go on, Hetty," he cried over his shoulder. "I just
want to show Munro this. Now, these plain dining-room
chairs, what d'you think they cost each? Eh, what?"
"Five pounds," said I at a venture.
"Exactly!" he cried, in great delight; "thirty pounds
for the six. You hear, Hetty! Munro guessed the price
first shot. Now, my boy, what for the pair of curtains?"
They were a magnificent pair of stamped crimson
velvet, with a two-foot gilt cornice above them. I
thought that I had better not imperil my newly gained
reputation by guessing.
"Eighty pounds!" he roared, slapping them with the
back of his hand. "Eighty pounds, Munro! What d'ye
think of that? Everything that I have in this house is
going to be of the best. Why, look at this waiting-maid!
Did you ever see a neater one?"
He swung the girl, towards me by the arm.
Don't be silly, Jimmy," said Mrs. Cullingworth
mildly, while he roared with laughter, with all his fangs
flashing under his bristling moustache. The girl edged
closer to her mistress, looking half-frightened and half-
angry.
"All right, Mary, no harm!" he cried. "Sit down,
Munro, old chap. Get a bottle of champagne, Mary, and
we'll drink to more luck."
Well, we had a very pleasant little dinner. It is
never slow if Cullingworth is about. He is one of those
men who make a kind of magnetic atmosphere, so that you
feel exhilarated and stimulated in their presence.
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