I can get that at the bar," the manager said, curtly. Too busy. "Here, wife—hostess—fetch me that bottle from the second shelf in the corner cupboard. Presently she became aware of footsteps hurrying after her, and glanced back to find Miss Klegg, a little out of breath, in pursuit. “Yeah, I know. With this view, he hurried to the spot where he had left the post-chaise, and found it drawn up at the road-side, the postilion dismounted, and in charge of a couple of farming-men. ‘Come inside at once, child.
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