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XX
Dicky completed his round, and pushed his unladen trolley Grinder-ward with a a fuller sense of responsibility than ever. For he carried money. A publican had paid him four and threepence, and he had taken two and tenpence elsewhere. He had left his proud signature, pencilled large and black, on two receipts, and he stopped in a dozen doorways to count the money over again, and make sure that all was right. Between the halts he added four and three to two and ten mentally, and proved his sum correct by subtracting each in turn from seven and a penny, and at last he stood his trolley on end by the bank of sauce-pans and entered the shop.
"Walkers is paid, an' Wilkins is paid,"
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