“Then make a note of it, and buy it in New York. You have an account at all the desirable shops here, and I never kick at the bills, do I, now?”
“No; but a woman does want a little cash with her—”
“Oh, that, of course! I quite subscribe to that. But I gave you a couple of dollars yesterday.”
“Yes, but I gave one to a Red Cross collector, and the other I had to pay out for a C.O.D. charge.”
“Why buy things C.O.D. when you have accounts everywhere?”
“Oh, this was something I saw advertised in the evening paper—”
“And you bought it because it was cheap! Oh, you women! Now, Eunice, that’s just a case in point. I want my wife to have everything she wants—everything in reason, but there’s no sense in throwing money away. Now, kiss me, sweetheart, for I’m due at a directors’ meeting in two shakes—or thereabouts.”
Embury snapped the fastening of his second glove, and, hat in hand, held out his arms to his wife.
She made one more appeal.
“You’re quite right, San, maybe I didn’t need that C.O.D. thing. But I do want a little chickenfeed in my purse when I go out to-day. Maybe they’ll take up a collection.”