You got the dominoes for threepence halfpenny, but the price on the box is fivepence, so that Elspeth would really owe him a penny.
This led to an agonizing scene in which Elspeth wept while Tommy told her sternly about Reddy.

It had become his custom to tell the tale of Reddy when Elspeth was obstreperous.
Then followed a scene in which Tommy called himself a scoundrel for frightening his dear Elspeth, and swore that he loved none but her.
Result: reconciliation, and agreed, that instead of a gun and dominoes, they should buy a porous plaster.

You know the shops where the plasters are to be obtained by great colored bottles in their windows, and, as it was advisable to find the very best shop, Tommy and Elspeth in their wanderings came under the influence of the bottles, red, yellow, green, and blue, and color entered into their lives, giving them many delicious thrills.

These bottles are the first poem known to the London child, and you chemists who are beginning to do without them in your windows should be told that it is a shame.
In the glamour, then, of the romantic battles walked Tommy and Elspeth hand in hand, meeting so many novelties that they might have spared a tear for the unfortunate children who sit in nurseries surrounded by all they ask for, and if the adventures of these two frequently ended in the middle, they had probably begun another while the sailor-suit boy was still holding up his leg to let the nurse put on his little sock.

While they wandered, they drew near unwittingly to the enchanted street, to which the bottles are a colored way, and at last they were in it, but Tommy recognized it not; he did not even feel that he was near it, for there were no outside stairs, no fairies strolling about, it was a short street as shabby as his own.
But someone had shouted "Dinna haver, lassie; you're blethering!" Tommy whispered to Elspeth, "Be still; don't speak," and he gripped her hand tighter and stared at the speaker.