She eyed the scissors. "Can I have them, too?"
Jeff frowned slightly. "I don't know, ma'am. They sell for a dollar and ten cents, and Tarrant Enterprises, Ltd., must show a reasonable return. Now—"
She said, as though suddenly remembering, "I've got a dollar."
"And for the rest might we have bread and chicken?"
"Oh, sure! I'll get it right now!"
She ran into the kitchen, lingered a few minutes, and returned with a large package, one almost as large, and a small parcel. Jeff smacked his lips. The largest package could contain nothing less than the better part of a roast chicken, the one nearly as large must be a whole loaf of bread, and she pressed all three on him.
"Some butter for your bread, an' here's the dollar. You comin' through again?"
"When I do, ma'am, you have an honored place on my list of valued customers."
"Then you will stop?"
"Most certainly."