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They both paused to take breath.
“Thank you, sir,” said Mr. Totman. “And the Gazette, I suppose?”
“No,” said Edmund.
“No,” said Phillipa.
“Excuse me, you do want the Gazette?”
“No.”
“No.”
“You mean”—Mr. Totman liked to get things perfectly clear—“You don’twant the Gazette!”
“No, we don’t.”
“Certainly not.”
“You don’t want the North Benham News and the Chipping Cleghorn Gaz-ette—”
“No.”
“You don’t want me to send it along to you every week?”
“No.” Edmund added: “Is that quite clear now?”
“Oh, yes, sir—yes.”
Edmund and Phillipa went out, and Mr. Totman padded into his backparlour.
“Got a pencil, Mother?” he said. “My pen’s run out.”
