“Mr. Mahan, I have let those pines stand so that everybody on the steamers could enjoy them. Do you suppose that after doing that I am going to steal?”
“Very well. I’ll take it for half a dollar. Now about my hand.”
“I’ll wash it with pleasure. If you insist on paying, it will have to go dirty.”
“But you won’t be able to endure the sight of it when I come to meals.”
“Are you coming to meals?”
“What else can I do, since no fish will bite me?” She burst into laughter at last, while he counted out twenty dollars.
“That’s a week in advance. Your rates come to nineteen and a quarter, but twenty is easier to reckon.”
He took her hand, laid the bills within it, and closed the fingers over it. She opened her fist and took out two of the crumpled fives. She lifted poor Pat and tucked them under his helpless thumb.
“Now just go over to your own island, pick out the softest moss you can find, and take a long, long nap.”
“But I can’t, unless indeed you give me a bromide.”