Fineberg on the important matter of a rise in salary. Mr. Coppin
removed his saucer of tea from his lips. Frank brushed the tail of a
sardine from the corner of his mouth. Percy ate his haddock in an
undertone. Albert Potter, who was present, glowered silently.

Roland shook his head with the nearest approach to gloom which his
rejoicing heart would permit.

"I'm afraid I've bad news."

Mrs. Coppin burst into tears, her invariable practise in any crisis.
Albert Potter's face relaxed into something resembling a smile.

"He won't give you your raise?"

Roland sighed.

"He's reduced me."

"Reduced you!"

"Yes. Times are bad just at present, so he has had to lower me to a
hundred and ten."

The collected jaws of the family fell as one jaw. Muriel herself seemed
to be bearing the blow with fortitude, but the rest were stunned. Frank
and Percy might have been posing for a picture of men who had lost
their fountain pens.

Beneath the table the hand of Albert Potter found the hand of Muriel