“Then think better of it,” growled the stout man with a grimace, “for I can tell you he's not up to much.” He took a long pull at his rum and raspberry. “At any rate he's done me no good.”
“Oh, then I'm so glad I ventured to mention it,” exclaimed Larose gratefully. “It'll save me wasting a guinea, at any rate.”
“Guinea be blowed!” scoffed the stout man. “He charges two every time you go in, and it's precious little you get for your money.” He pointed disgustedly to his blotchy face. “I've been to him to cure this, and all he says is ‘Rub on Zinc Ointment, wash it with oatmeal, and drink a lot of water!’” He scoffed disgustedly. “I'm not going to give any more good money to be told the same damned thing every time. I can yap that to myself, without it costing me another penny.”
Then Lar
