Paul pretended that he was disappointed. The man’s sunken cheeks, long nose and deep sockets, were imprinted in his mind. But it was Mr. Grey’s eyes that bore into him. Those eyes! he thought to himself, he would never forget them. They were dark, brilliant, wild. He became conscious that he was staring very awkwardly at the man and that Mr. Grey was waiting for him to say something. He said, “You see—er—I am looking for Grey’s Pharmacy.”
The man repeated to himself, “Grey’s Pharmacy! I am sorry, but I don’t think I know where it is.”
On the spur of the moment, Paul said, “And then I have to go down also to John and Main Streets. Can you tell me where that is?”
Paul thought that the man would show some sign of interest at the mention of the words Grey and John Street. But he was disappointed. Mr. Grey was quite calm and not at all disturbed by those words. He answered softly, “Yes, I can tell you where John Street is. You walk straight down Main Street; you can’t miss it. It is quite a walk though; almost a mile.” He hesitated for a second and looked down the street. “There is the car coming,” he continued. “You can take it and get off at John Street.”
“Thank you,” murmured Paul and stepped aside to let the man pass on. He watched Mr. Grey, walk away. Remembering that he still had the errand to do for his father, he was undecided whether to follow or not. Shaking his head, he turned and walked off.
Completing the errand for his father, he ran off to the stationery store. He entered. A young man behind the counter asked, “What can I do for you?”
Paul showed him a blank, white card. “Have you got any cards like that?” he asked.
The young man behind the counter took the card, fingered it and answered, “Yes, we have them. How many do you want?”
“I need ten,” said Paul.