"I explained to Mr. Dominez your situation—and your ambition," Cornelius Allendyce put in almost apologetically.
"Mr. Allendyce will represent you in this deal, Miss Lynch, if you care to think the sale over. However, I am giving you a final offer. You are young and—"
Beryl reached out both hands with childish impulsiveness. "Oh, I want the money now! I want to spend it. I want—oh, you don't know all I want—" She stopped abruptly, confused by the smiles on both men's faces.
"Mr. Dominez will give you a partial payment in cash and the rest I will deposit in the bank to your credit," explained Cornelius Allendyce. "You need not feel ashamed of your excitement, my dear; fortune like this does not come often to anyone. It's hard, indeed, not to believe that the little beads have magic."
"I'm dreaming. I'm just plain dreaming and I'll wake up in a minute and find I'm Beryl Lynch, poor as ever!" Beryl whispered to herself as she followed Robin's guardian out into the sunshine of the street. She felt of her bulging pocketbook, into which she had put the roll of bills the little collector had smilingly given her, and which Robin's guardian had counted over, quite seriously. It felt real but it just couldn't be true—
"Now where, my dear? You ought to make this day one you'll never forget."
"Don't I have to go right back to Wassumsic? Oh, then—then—can I go to see Jacques Henri and tell him? I know the way—I can take the Ninth Avenue Elevated—or—Would it be very foolish if I took a taxi?" Beryl colored furiously.
"Not at all, Miss Beryl, not at all. Take the taxi and keep it there to return to my house; then you and Miss Effie put your heads together and decide just what you want to do first with your money."
Beryl rejoiced that it was a nice shiny taxi, quite like a real lady's car. She sniffed delightedly the leathery smell, sat bolt upright with her chin in the air.
"Go straight down Fifth Avenue," she instructed the driver.