328 ANGEL PAVEMENT

make anything at all out of dealing, if you're going to
be a real dealer, that'sh the only way to do it—make
it a full time job, wherever you are, be on the look out,
keep your eyesh open, your earsh open, turn thingsh
over in your mind. If you'd a bit more money, d'you
know what I'd shay to you?"

Turgis could think of several things that Mr.
Pelumpton would say to him, the very minute he had
some more money, but he was certain that not one of
them was in Mr. Pelumpton's thoughts at the moment.
So he merely shook his head.

"What I'd shay to you ish—shtart collecting. In a
shmall way, y'know, to begin with. Doeshn't matter
what you collect. And I'd put you on to thingsh.
That'sh where you'd be lucky 'cosh you'd 'ave the bene-
fit of my experiensh and knowledge of the trade."

Turgis did not think he would care very much for
collecting, and Mrs. Pelumpton, returning at that
moment, wiping her hands on an apron, said that she
didn't think of collecting either. "Just wasting your
money and littering the place up, that would be," she
added. "So don't you go and put ideas into his head,
Dad. I'd sooner see you taking an interest in these
politics, same as Mr. Park."

"You know what he ish, Mishter Park?" said her
husband. "He'sh a Bolshie, that'sh what he ish."^

"Well, it keeps him quiet enough," Mrs. Pelumpton
retorted. "And sober, too. Never makes any noise or
trouble. Nobody will make me believe he's a real
Bolshie, a nice quiet young chap like that. And he's
never been to Russia, never once set eyes on it. He told
me so himself."

"That doeshn't matter," said Mr. Pelumpton.