Sarah, still ogling that "rooms" column said, softly:—
"Four to six rooms? That's just grand if you can afford such. But,——"
"Wait!" said Gadsby, who, taking Paul's and Sarah's arms, and strolling along, told of a small six-room bungalow of his, just around from Nancy's.
"And you two will pay just nothing a month for it. It's yours, from front porch to roof top, as a gift to two of my most loyal pals."
And instantly a copy of Branton Hills' "Post" was blowing across Broadway in a fluky July wind!
Now, as this young pair was to start out frugally, it wouldn't do to lay out too much for, as Sarah said, "about forty words by a pastor, and a kiss."
So only Priscilla stood up with Sarah; and Bill Gadsby, in all his sartorial glory, with Paul, in Parson Brown's small study; both girls in dainty morning clothing; Sarah carrying a bunch of gay nasturtiums, claiming that such warm, bright colorings would add as much charm to that short occasion as a thousand dollars' worth of orchids. Now, such girls as Sarah, with that capacity for finding satisfaction so simply, don't grow as abundantly as hollyhocks—and Paul found that Gadsby's old Organization was a group knowing what a dollar is: just a dollar.
XXI
Occasionally a sight bobs up without warning in a city, which starts a train of thought, sad or gay, according to how you look at it. And so, Lucy, Priscilla, and Virginia Adams, walking along Broadway, saw a crowd around a lamp post, upon which was a patrol-box; and, though our girls don't customarily follow up such sights, Lucy saw a man's form sprawling flat up against that post, as limp as a rag. Priscilla said, in disgust:—
"Ugh!! It's Norman Antor! Drunk again!!" and Virginia, hastily grasping both girls' arms and hurrying past, said:—