In fact, they were
pretty unsatisfactory, if you came right down to it, and he hoped
they wouldn't keep him there again. And, oh, yes--he was almost
forgetting. Here was ten dollars--he believed there were two weeks'
rent now due. He passed over the money with rather a Clifford
Armytage flourish.
Mrs. Patterson accepted the bill almost protestingly. She hadn't
once thought about the rent, because she knew he was reliable, and
he was to remember that any time convenient to him would always suit
her in these matters. She did accept the bill, still she was not the
heartless creature he had supposed her to be.
As he bade her good-night at the door she regarded him closely and
said, "Somehow you look a whole lot older, Mr. Armytage."
"I am," replied Mr. Armytage.
* * * * * * *
Miss Montague, after parting with her protege had walked quickly,
not without little recurrent dance steps--as if some excess of joy
would ever and again overwhelm her--to the long office building on
the Holden lot, where she entered a door marked "Buckeye Comedies.
Jeff Baird, Manager." The outer office was vacant, but through the
open door to another room she observed Baird at his desk, his head
bent low over certain sheets of yellow paper.
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