"Well, I said I'd come, didn't I? Rain or shine? In five minutes I
should have been too late--shop closed--" He lurched a little towards
her.

She backed away from him. "You--you are--wet--won't you take cold--?"

"Never take cold--glad to get here--" He smiled and shut his eyes,
opened them and smiled again, nodded and recovered, nodded and came to
rest with his head on the counter.

The girl made a sudden rush for the rear door of the shop. "Look here,
Emily. Poor old duck!"

Emily, standing in the doorway, surveyed the sleeping derelict
scornfully. "You'd better put him out. It is six o'clock, Jean--"

"He was here yesterday--and he was furious because I wouldn't sell him
any soldiers. He said he wanted to make a bonfire of the Prussian
ones--and to buy the French and English ones for his son," she laughed.

"Of course you told him they were not for sale."

"Yes. But he insisted. And when he went away he told me he'd come
again and bring a lot of money--"

The shabby old gentleman, rousing at the psychological moment, threw on
the counter a roll of bills and murmured brokenly:

"'Ten little soldiers fighting on the line,