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out. How was it to be done? He began to submit sketches on approval to
himself. It required an effort before he could walk into the Angel bar.
"A lemonade and bitter, please," said Mr. Hoopdriver.
He cleared his throat. "Are Mr. and Mrs. Bowlong stopping here?"
"
"
"
What, a gentleman and a young lady--on bicycles?"
Fairly young--a married couple."
No," said the barmaid, a talkative person of ample dimensions. "There's
no married couples stopping here. But there's a Mr. and Miss BEAUMONT."
She spelt it for precision. "Sure you've got the name right, young man?"
"
Quite," said Mr. Hoopdriver.
"Beaumont there is, but no one of the name of--What was the name you
gave?"
"Bowlong," said Mr. Hoopdriver.
"No, there ain't no Bowlong," said the barmaid, taking up a glasscloth
and a drying tumbler and beginning to polish the latter. "First off, I
thought you might be asking for Beaumont--the names being similar. Were
you expecting them on bicycles?"
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