'Does Mrs.Pennyloaf Hewett know how you spend your time ?' 'Hasn't your husband taught you to mind your own business ?' Clem took the retort good-humouredly, and they walked on conversing.
Not altogether at his ease thus companioned, Bob turned out of the main street, and presently they came within sight of the British Museum.
'Ever been in that place ?' Clem asked.
'Of course I have,' he replied, with his air of superiority.
'I haven't.

Is there anything to pay?
Let's go in for half an hour.' It was an odd freak, but Bob began to have a pleasure in this renewal of intimacy; he wished he had been wearing his best suit.

Years ago his father had brought him on a public holiday to the Museum, and his interest was chiefly excited by the collection of the Royal Seals.

To that quarter he first led his companion, and thence directed her towards objects more likely to supply her with amusement; he talked freely, and was himself surprised at the show of information his memory allowed him to make--desperately vague and often ludicrously wide of the mark, but still a something of knowledge, retained from all sorts of chance encounters by his capable mind.

Had the British Museum been open to visitors in the hours of the evening, or on Sundays, Bob Hewitt would possibly have been employing his leisure nowadays in more profitable pursuits.