“Keep the change, laddie,” he said.
“He doesn’t know, actually he doesn’t know.”
“Your wife’s won the lottery!”
“He won’t believe you. Show him the paper. There it is as plain as my nose. Mrs.Grace Biborough, 52 Cuthbert Street.” A thick, stained forefinger pointed to the words.
”First prize, five thousand pounds, Last Hope Syndicate.”
“He’s taking it very hard,” said Fred Lewis, shaking his head.