Chapter 11
RICHARD TO PLAY“I
N t’ree weeks this ’otel will be anole in the road. I shan’t be ’ere no more. I shall be livin’ wit’ my daughter in Saffron ’Ill. It don’t matter to me what I tell you, see?”
The old waiter was only just intelligible and had Richard known more about London he would have guessed that he was listening to a local dialect rather than a foreign accent, inasmuch as the man had no other tongue and had never had any other home.
To look at he was remarkably like a toad and moved with some of that pleasant creature’s spry difficulty. At the moment he was bending sideways at the tea table, leaning heavily on his hand. His dark-skinned face flecked with little black patches was tired with the wear of a lifetime and he spoke to the boy like some comically allegorical fi
