"Only just the bit that’s to last us through the week."
"Give it to me, quick!"
She snatched up the flat little purse and rushed out again, pushing her hair up under her hat as she ran. She didn’t quite know where to look. She sought in vain along Sixth Avenue, then crossed to Fifth, and found there what she wanted—an empty taxicab, cruising along Madison Square.
"Say!" she called. "Taxi!"
The man stopped and looked at her suspiciously. A queer-looking thing she was to hail a cab!
"I want to go out to Baycliff," she said.
"You better walk, then," he said. "It’s cheaper."
"Oh, you’ll get paid, all right!" said Angelica. "The people out there’ll pay you good and give you a tip."
He shook his head.
"I guess not," he said doubtfully. "You better find some one else. I’m married. I can’t afford to take no chances. Where’d I be, if I wasn’t to get paid? A long run like that, and got to come back empty!"