Worse still was the clerk's behaviour.

For after lauding the cheapness of the establishment, Grindle disputed the price of each item on the "meenew," and, when he came to pay his bill, chuckled over having been able to diddle the waiter of a penny.
He was plainly one of those who feel the constant need of an audience.
And since there was no office-boy present, for him to dazzle with his wit, he applied himself to demonstrating to his table-companion what a sad, sad dog he was.
"Women are the deuce, sir," he asserted, lying back in his chair and sending two trails of smoke from his nostrils.

"The very deuce! You should hear my governor on the subject! He'd tickle your ears for you.
Look here, I'll give you the tip: this move, you know, to Ballarat, that he's drivin' at: what'ull you bet me there isn't a woman in the case?
Fact! 'Pon my word there is.

And a devilish fine woman, too!" He shut one eye and laid a finger along his nose.

"You won't blow the gab ?--that's why you couldn't have your parleyvoo this morning.