Came downstairs yesterday afternoon to find Mrs Payne returned, look altogether hot, and positively exhausted. Asked how many she had delivered, to which received gasping response,
"Must be a thousand!". Looked at her remaining pile, and quick inspection revealed quite majority still remained. Asked where she had been, and was told with pride number 15! This struck me rather disappointing. We live at number 6.
Mrs Payne said would I be so good as to see about some tea and sandwich? Was terribly hungry, and had barely packed a jot for the morning expedition. At this Mrs Payne picked up nearby biscuit barrel and began shoving it in her bag. Looked over with quite disbelief, at which Mrs Payne seeing my confusion, said brightly,
Sandwich having been provided Mrs Payne appeared much improved. Sat in silent fury as Mrs Payne said rather gravely once finished, had some terrible news, would I believe a young hooligan had mugged her, and had off with my flask! Shaking her head, she added, had fought him bitterly for it, was terribly brave, as knew it was mine, but was eventually overpowered, and he got away. Terrible shame. Still, wouldn't ring the police, probably miles away by now. By the by, were no witnesses.