The dapper little man with brilliantined black hair nodded. “Just as I thought,” he said, checking the tape-measure in his slender hands. “You still haven’t changed a centimetre. Not since I first measured you all those years ago. You keep yourself very fit, Mr Sowerbutt. Not like many of my clients who put on a centimetre a year, then blame me for getting my accurate measurements wrong. Me, who has been measuring bodies, thick and thin, for 30 years or more.”
Sowerbutt smiled. “You are such a flatterer, Jack. That’s why you are doing so well, and your competitors elsewhere in Whitechapel are hanging up their scissors. I know your secret, you’ve got different tape-measures for different waistlines. And you confuse your poor clients with science as well. Centimetres, who knows what centimetres are? They weren’t taught at school in my day.” amazon.co.uk/Colour-Lemon-Surrender-1940-ebook/dp/B008USR7FA
Sowerbutt smiled. “You are such a flatterer, Jack. That’s why you are doing so well, and your competitors elsewhere in Whitechapel are hanging up their scissors. I know your secret, you’ve got different tape-measures for different waistlines. And you confuse your poor clients with science as well. Centimetres, who knows what centimetres are? They weren’t taught at school in my day.” amazon.co.uk/Colour-Lemon-Surrender-1940-ebook/dp/B008USR7FA
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