"Not at all! I have, at this present moment, more than eighteen dollars in my pocket, and I have these!"
He showed her his two hands, big and sinewed, capable and strong.
"Eighteen dollars," she mused, half to herself. "Why, I have spent that, and more, for a single ounce of a new perfume—something very rare, you know, from Japan."
"Indeed? Well, don't tell me," he replied. "I'm not interested in how you spend money, but how you get it."
"Get it? Oh, father gives me my allowance, that's all."
"And he squeezes it out of the common people?"
She glanced at him quickly.
"You—you aren't a Socialist, into the bargain, are you?" she inquired.
"At your service," he bowed.
"This is strange, strange indeed," she said. "Tell me your name."