"Oh, thank you, Mr. Brown!" she said.
Ebenezer paused for a moment to ask:
"You know me, young lady?"
"You would not remember me, but I met you once, years ago. My name is Sylvia Jackson."
"Jackson?" grunted the old man. "Don't remember the name, but I shouldn't forget you if I had met you once."
He went along the street, chuckling in his throat in a dry, disagreeable fashion he affected when amused.
"You took a great risk in allowing old Eb. to hold your purse. How he resisted an inclination to pocket it I can't for the life of me understand," said Desmond O'Connor.
"Are there no other impossible men in Grey Town?" asked Sylvia Jackson. "I feel so exalted by my two successes that I would love to discover a really hardened woman-hater, and convert him to more humanitarian principles."
"Be content with what you have achieved, and devote your gifts to me," said Desmond.