“That’s so. Maybe I could help him, you know.”
“Of course! That is—well, in what way, Sam?”
“There are lots of ways, you said. I might”—Sam edged toward the door—“I might say a good word for him to my sister!”
Nell tossed her head. “You can’t tease me about Mr. Hall, Sam,” she said untroubledly. “He and I are good friends, but we’re both of us—businessmen!”
“Then what are you blushing for?” demanded Sam meanly.
“I’m not blushing, silly! Do run away and let me get to work!”
“Oh, all right.” Sam went out, but, just before the door closed finally behind him, he added softly, “Say, sis!”
“Go away, please!”
“He’s not bad-looking, is he?”
The hurried clatter of the machine followed him along the hall until, with a little smile around his eyes, he turned the corner and pressed the elevator signal.