"Everybody's so kind to me," Yetta said, blinking her eyes to drive away the tears.
"This isn't kindness," he protested. "It will save me about ten dollars a month."
Taking her silence for consent, he went on to explain to her how she was to open the letters and mail a printed card explaining his absence to the writer and every week forward the bundle of mail to the French Legation in Teheran. And then he explained the money matters, how she was to pay the rent and his subscriptions to various learned and philanthropic societies and so forth.
All the while, Yetta, curled up on the window-seat, was trying to realize how very empty her life would be after he left. It would at least be some comfort to live here in his room with his ghost.
While he was still explaining the details about his mail and the bank account he would open in her name, a couple of waiters arrived laden with linen and dishes. They were from the Lafayette, where Walter was a regular patron. He knew the chef and the garçons by their first names and they had laid themselves out to make his farewell dinner memorable. The books and papers on the table were piled on the floor. And just as one waiter was giving a last pat to the cloth and the other was lighting the candles, Mabel and Isadore arrived.
CHAPTER XVIII WALTER'S FAREWELL
Mabel had come to the dinner with some reluctance. She feared that the farewell might take too personal a line for pleasure. Walter's heart was so full of bitterness that he was glad when things went to the other extreme and turned into a celebration of the strike victory.
When at last the waiters had removed the débris of the feast, and Walter was nursing the coffee urn, Mabel and Isadore began to discuss Yetta's plans. They had a great deal to say about her work in trying to ally the garment trades. But Walter, when he had distributed the coffee, broke into the conversation abruptly.