"But I thought--that is--you always said----"
"That I was as poor as Job's turkey, eh? Only a stall. I just worked
for Fisher for the sociological experience. I don't have to work
really."
She looked at him with troubled eyes.
He couldn't resist the temptation to tease her a little. "My old man's
a multi-millionaire," he rattled on. "Of course I get sick of that
life sometimes, and scout about a bit."
Her eyes became so reproachful his heart smote him.
"Oh, that's only a joke," he said quickly. "Lord knows the poverty was
real enough--but it's over for good!" "For both of us," he would have
liked to add, but did not quite dare. "Look!" he cried, drawing his
hand out of his pocket with the great roll of yellow-backed bills. "My
income for half an hour!"
"Where did you get it?" she said aghast