He squared himself to the task, and Mr. Polly sat beside him like a
pupil, watching the evolution of the grey, distasteful figures that
were to dispose of his little hoard.

"What running expenses have we got to provide for?" said Johnson,
wetting his pencil. "Let's have them first. Rent?..."

At the end of an hour of hideous speculations, Johnson decided: "It's
close. But you'll have a chance."

"M'm," said Mr. Polly. "What more does a brave man want?"

"One thing you can do quite easily. I've asked about it."

"What's that, O' Man?" said Mr. Polly.

"Take the shop without the house above it."

"I suppose I might put my head in to mind it," said Mr. Polly, "and
get a job with my body."

"Not exactly that. But I thought you'd save a lot if you stayed on
here--being all alone as you are."

"Never thought of that, O' Man," said Mr. Polly, and reflected
silently upon the needlessness of Miriam.

"We were talking of eighty pounds for stock," said Johnson. "Of course
seventy-five is five pounds less, isn't it? Not much else we can cut."