“That’s settled,” she turned now to Blynn. “We think twelve dollars a month is a good price for the cottage—especially since you haven’t rented it for ever so long. Mac will get it put in good shape for you. Is it a go?... For me!”
“Take it for nothing,” said Blynn.
“Well, we’ll call it eight dollars, then,” she resumed.
“Ho!” cried Bardek, highly amused. “She is good at the bargain. In my country the woman get everything cheap.”
“Here’s where you get out, Bardek.”
“Ach, so soon! Well, I get in, I go housekeeping, I get out—comme tu voudras, mon enfant. Some day, she say, ‘Bardek, go jump in Schuylkill river, please,’ and I say, ‘Yes, miss, jus’ please wait till I put on my coat.’... Goodby, Mr. Blynn; Goodby, ol’ Mac; adieu, Madam Pompadour, who make kings of the earth go live in little w’ite closets. Adieu!”
Farewells were waved until Bardek could be seen no longer.
“Topic number four,” she took up the next part of her program abruptly. “I’m not going to let you drop me, Allen Blynn.... I just won’t stand it.”
She spoke hurriedly and nervously. Allen Blynn was quite taken by surprise.
“It isn’t fair. You said you would take charge of me, my education, I mean; you told mother you would; everybody thought so, too; and then, you just—walked out.... For the last year I’ve seen you only once or twice on the streets, and you’re always rushing somewhere.... What have I done?... We’ve got to settle this thing right here and now. I’ve been thinking and thinking and I can’t make it out. You just avoid me as if I weren’t fit to—” the storm began to subside. “Of course, I don’t mean that. But why can’t we be good pals, like we were? Why not, mon capitaine?”