"'Oo's rose doo barry trick-o when 'e's at 'ome?" inquired Elizabeth.

I translated hurriedly. "I mean it's a pink knitted one. Exactly what I
want. But what is the use of my even hoping to secure it?"

"I'll get it for you," announced Elizabeth.

"You! But how?"

"I'll go an' wait an hour or two afore the doors open, an' when they do I
don't 'arf know 'ow to fight my way to the counters. Let me go, m'm. I'd
reelly like the outin'."

I hesitated, but only for a moment. What could be simpler than sending an
emissary to use her elbows on my behalf? There was nothing unfair in doing
that, especially if I undertook the washing-up in her absence.

Elizabeth set out very early on the day of the sale looking enthusiastic.
I, equally enthusiastic, applied myself to the menial tasks usually
performed by Elizabeth. We had just finished a lunch of tinned soup, tinned
fish and tinned fruit (oh, what a blessing is a can-opener in the absence
of domestics!) when she reappeared. My heart leapt at the sight of a parcel
in her hand.

"You got it after all!" I exclaimed. O thrice blessed Elizabeth! O most
excellent domestic! For the battles she had fought that day on my behalf
she should not go unrewarded.

"I'm longing to try it on," I said as I tore at the outer wrappings.