When he had reached the first landing, Lizzie called after him. "There's a poce-card for you," she said. "From Mr. 'Inde. 'E says 'e'll be 'ome to-morrow, an' 'e asts you to give me 'is love. Saucy 'ound! 'E's a one, 'e is!"
John turned towards her. "It won't be necessary for me to give his love to you, will it?" he said sarcastically. "You seem to have taken it already!"
She was unaware of his sarcasm. "So I 'ave," she said. "I'll tell 'im that when 'e comes back!"
"Do you always read post-cards, Lizzie?" he asked.
"Of course I do," she answered. "So does everybody. You 'urry on now, an' I'll 'ave your dinner up before you finish dryin' your fyce!" She contemplated him for a moment. "You got nice 'air," she said, "only it wants brushin'. An' cuttin', too!"
Then she disappeared down the stairs leading to the basement.
"That's a _very_ rum sort of a woman," John murmured to himself as he proceeded to his room.
He had gone to bed before the Creams returned from their round of the music-halls, but in the morning, when Lizzie had removed the remnants of his breakfast, John heard a tap on the door of the sitting-room, and on opening it, found a small, wistful-looking man, with a smiling face, standing outside.
"Good-morning," said the stranger, holding his hand out. "I'm Cream from the ground-floor!"
"Oh, yes," John answered, shaking hands with him. "Come in, won't you!"
"Well, I was going to suggest you should come down and be introduced to the wife. She'd like to meet you!" Mr. Cream said, entering the sitting-room as he spoke.
John had a sensation of self-consciousness when he heard the word "wife."
"Settling down comfortably?" Mr. Cream continued.
"Oh, yes, thank you," said John. "I went out all day yesterday and had my first look at London!"
"And what do you think of it? Great place, eh?"
John confessed that he had been disappointed in London, and in a few moments he began to recite a list of the things that had disappointed him.
"Wait 'til you've been here a few months," Mr. Cream interrupted. "You'll love this town. You'll hate loving it, but you won't be able to help yourself. I've been all over the world, the wife and me, and I've seen some of the loveliest places on earth, but London's got me. You'll be the same. You see!" He glanced about the room, casting his eyes critically at the books. "I hear you're a writer, too?" he said, less as an assertion than as a question.