Bellman & Black
“Black than she does of Mr. Bellman. She’s beginning to wonder whether Mr. Bellman exists at all and taxes me with having invented him.”
Bellman stared at the haberdasher—it was Critchlow—who had one of Bellman’s cigars in one hand and a glass of Bellman’s whiskey in the other.
“It’s a little joke of hers,” the man explained mildly, seeing Bellman’s face.
It was true that Bellman didn’t go out much. Opportunities were numerous: every day the post brought invitations to this ball and that dinner ...and grand events here, there, and everywhere, but Bellman was a busy man. It was tiresome enough getting round the shop thrice a day without being ambushed into conversation. With an air of sorrowful amiability he saw what he wanted to see, checked what he wanted to check, while avoiding eye contact. In a manner befitting the manager of the shop he bestowed his condolences with a look left and right that encompassed all and singled out no one.
Socializing was impossible to avoid altogether.MoreLess
Bellman stared at the haberdasher—it was Critchlow—who had one of Bellman’s cigars in one hand and a glass of Bellman’s whiskey in the other.
“It’s a little joke of hers,” the man explained mildly, seeing Bellman’s face.
It was true that Bellman didn’t go out much. Opportunities were numerous: every day the post brought invitations to this ball and that dinner ...and grand events here, there, and everywhere, but Bellman was a busy man. It was tiresome enough getting round the shop thrice a day without being ambushed into conversation. With an air of sorrowful amiability he saw what he wanted to see, checked what he wanted to check, while avoiding eye contact. In a manner befitting the manager of the shop he bestowed his condolences with a look left and right that encompassed all and singled out no one.
Socializing was impossible to avoid altogether.MoreLess
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