The huge shop, glittering with varnish, mirrors, and brass rods, the penetrating odour of leather, the saleswoman silently copying the figures into the book, and the misshapen hunchback kneeling before her and looking up into her face with his restless grey eyes, grown suddenly steady, that asked one question and sought another.

She frowned slightly, conscious of some strange and disagreeable sensation.
"I prefer them as tight as possible without hurting me," she replied nervously; "but I'm afraid I'm giving you too much trouble." "Not a bit," replied Jonah, clearing his throat.
As he finished measuring, a small boy, dressed in a Fauntleroy velvet suit, with an enormous collar and a flap cap, ran noisily into the shop, dragging a toy train at his heels.
"Get upstairs at once, Ray," said Jonah, without looking round.
The child, puffing and snorting like an engine, took no notice of the command.
"Did yez 'ear me speak ?" cried Jonah, angrily.
The child laughed, and stopped with his train in front of the customer, staring at her with unabashed eyes.
"What a pretty boy!" said the young woman.

"Won't you tell me your name ?" "My name's Ray Jones, and I'll make old bones," he cried, with the glibness of a parrot.
The young woman laughed, and Jonah's face changed instantly.

It wore the adoring gaze of the fond parent, who thinks his child is a marvel and a prodigy.
"Tell the lady 'ow old yer are," he said.
"I'm seven and a bit old-fashioned," cried the child, looking into the customer's face for the amused look that always followed the words.

The young woman smiled pleasantly as she laced her shoe.
"'E's as sharp as a needle," said Jonah, with a proud look, "but I 'aven't put 'im to school yet, 'cause 'e'll get enough schooling later on.