"I haven't bought much from your store before," she said.
"That's my misfortune," I returned with a laugh.
"You merely did that so as to put me in the position of having to deal with you, is that it?"
"Not at all. But your husband asked Mr. Larsen, when he called on him, if he could see to it for him, and we were only too glad to do so. Naturally, we are anxious for your patronage. You know, Mrs. Sturtevant, that's what we are in business for."
She seemed satisfied with that explanation. As she was leaving the store, she remarked:
"Mr. Black, if either of the maids or the chauffeur come here for goods, please don't deliver anything unless they have a written order. I have decided to stop trading with Mr. Stigler, because I think his bills are too high. Do you think Mr. Stigler is a fair man?" still with her hand on the doorknob.
Fancy asking me that question! As though I could possibly do justice to my feelings about Stigler in the presence of a lady. I was about to say, in the politest manner possible, that I thought him the dirtiest, meanest hound in the town, when I caught Larsen shaking his head, with a warning look in his eye, and then I realized the folly of what I had been about to do.
"I think Mr. Stigler is a pretty good man, so far as I know," I said, "but, of course, we don't see much of each other."
"I understand you fight each other a lot?" she asked.
"Oh, no, not at all."