He thought himself foolish to be angry.

Miss Jamieson uttered a short laugh and glanced at Miss Mills.

Miss Mills pursed her lips together and took up her pen once more.
"Will you be good enough to give me what I ask for, at once, please ?" The whole of Frank blazed in this small sentence: but Miss Mills was equal to it.
"You ought to know better," she said, "than to come asking for such things here! Taking up a lot of time like that." "You don't keep them ?" Miss Mills uttered a small sound.

Miss Jamieson tittered.
"Shops are the proper places for writing-paper.

This is a post-office." Words cannot picture the superb high breeding shown in this utterance.
Frank should have understood that he had been guilty of gross impertinence in asking such things of Miss Mills; it was treating her almost as a shop-girl.