Sadie knew what his compliments were worth, although they had not lost their charm. He wanted to put things off, but she must be firm.
“You make me tired, and I haven't finished with the books. We've got to have a talk.”
“I like you best when you don't talk; you sometimes say too much,” Charnock replied. “Besides a girl like you ought to be satisfied with being seen. You're worth looking at.”
Sadie gave him a quick glance. He had recently become fastidious about his clothes and she did not grudge the dollars he spent on them. His taste was good, and he looked very graceful as he turned to her with a smile on his face. The hint of dissipation it had worn was not so marked, for she had some power over him and used it well, but she thought he had been indulging. There was, however, no use in getting angry with Bob.
“You were at Wilkinson's again,” she said. “You promised you'd stop off going there. I suppose he set up the whisky!”
“I didn't take much. It wasn't good whisky; not like ours. That reminds me—I'm not much of a business man, but I've had a happy thought. My notion is we give the boys better liquor than they want. They wouldn't know the difference if we kept cheaper stuff.”
Sadie frowned, because she had accepted her father's business code. His charges were high, but it had been his boast that Keller's delivered the goods one paid for. Then she realized that Bob had nearly succeeded in putting off the threatened talk.
“No,” she said, “that's bad business in the end. When you'd had some whisky, Wilkinson got out the cards?”
“Oh, well, you know you stopped me playing a quiet game at home, and three or four of the boys were there. Then a Brandon real-estate man asked for the cards.”
“How much were you out when you finished the game?”