"Are you strong enough for this?" he asked Ida. "Hadn't you better
go back to the cab and wait for me!"
"Don't ask me to do that!" she entreated earnestly. "I _must_ be
active. I have strength now for anything."
Just as she spoke, Mr. Woodstock became aware of a disturbance of
some kind in a duty little tobacconist's shop close at hand. There
was a small crowd at the door, and the sound of wrangling voices
came from within. Such an occurrence was too ordinary to suggest any
special significance, but Abraham would not pass without making some
inquiry. Begging Ida to stand where he left her, he pushed his way
into the shop and listened to what was going on. A lad, well known
in these parts as "Lushy Dick," was, it appeared, charging the
tobacconist with cheating him; he alleged that he had deposited half
a sovereign on the counter in payment for a cigar, and the shopman
had given him change as if for sixpence, maintaining stoutly that
sixpence had been the coin given him, and no half-sovereign at all.
When Mr. Woodstock entered, the quarrel had reached a high pitch.
"Arf a quid!" the tobacconist was exclaiming contemptuously. "I'd
like to know where such as you's likely to git arf a quid from.
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