"
"Tomorrow'll do all right," said Doc, a trifle abashed.
"Can I see you a second, Mr. Thane?" called Miss Grady, when he
was halfway up the stairs.
He stopped and smiled down at her. "I hope you'll forgive me if
I don't come down, Miss Flora. My knee is still on the blink. It
hurts worse to go downstairs, than it does up."
"I'll come up," said Miss Grady promptly. "You remember those roses
I ordered for you last week? Well, I had to pay cash for them,
including parcel post. You owe me seven dollars and thirteen cents."
"I'm glad you spoke of it. I hadn't forgotten it, of course, but--I
simply neglected to square it up with you. Have you change for a
twenty, Miss Flora?"
"Not with me."
"I'll hand it to you tomorrow. Seven-thirteen, you say? Shall
we make it seven-fifteen?" He favoured her with his most engaging
smile, and Miss Grady, who thought she had steeled her heart
against his blandishments, suffered a momentary relapse and said,
"No hurry. I just thought I'd remind you."
He failed completely, however, to affect the susceptibilities of
Miss Mary Dowd, who presently rapped at his door, and rapped again
when he called out "Come in." He opened the door.
"Pardon me, Mr. Thane, for coming up to speak to you about your
bill. Will it be convenient for you to let me have the money this
evening?"
She did not soften the dun by offering the usual excuse about
"expenses being a little heavier this month than we expected," or
that she "hated to ask him for the amount.
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