He laughed derisively as if it was absurd to imagine he was going to remain a shipping clerk all his life.
"Oh, I'm only a clerk now, but I'll be boss some day—see if I don't."
"Might I ask what your present income is?" inquired the widow blandly.
For the first time Mr. Gillie seemed at a loss for an answer. Awkwardly shifting his cigar to the other corner of his mouth, he stammered:
"I'm not getting much now—ten a week—that's all." Hastily he continued: "But it won't be for long. The big men down town know me—they know what I'm worth to them. They're just watching me. Any day they may make me an offer that would land me in Easy Street. Besides, sooner or later I'll astonish people with one of my inventions. I'm full of new ideas. Some of them are bound to make money. It's a cinch!"
How long he would have continued in this strain there is no telling, for, although not talkative usually, he always became extraordinarily loquacious when encouraged to speak of his own affairs. Utterly exhausted by his chatter and feeling dreadfully tired, Mrs. Blaine began to wish that her unwelcome visitor would go. The room was full of tobacco smoke and his free-and-easy manner irritated her extremely. Of course, his proposal was ridiculous, an impertinence. It was Fanny's fault for having encouraged him. But it was best to say nothing—to just drop him gently. An awkward pause followed during which the widow, fatigued as she was, plied her needle more industriously than ever, while the would-be Benedict, nicely balanced on his chair, amused himself sending rings of smoke up to the ceiling. Happily, at this juncture, Fanny returned from the kitchen. She had noticed the strained silence and feared it boded ill. A glance at her mother's face was enough. Quickly she exclaimed:
"Now, mother, you must go to bed. Mr. Gillie will excuse you, I'm sure. It's getting real late."
Taking the hint, the shipping clerk rose to his feet. With a grin he said:
"That's right, m'm—all work and no play don't agree with nobody. That's my maxim. Well, good night, ladies!" As he shuffled off, accompanied to the door by Fanny, he said in an undertone: "It's O.K., Fan—I put it to her good and hard—it's you for mine, all right!"
As they passed along the dark passage he profited by the opportunity to snatch a kiss, and as they bade each other good-bye he said: