“You came to see me,” he said, “and you ain't come afore for twenty year—you said so. Now, when you do come, you want money, you said that, too.”
“Well, what of it?”
“Nothin' of it, 'special. Only when a party comes to me and commences by sayin' he or she's a relation I know what's comin' next. Relations! Humph! My relations never done much for me.”
Thankful's fingers twitched. “'Cordin' to all accounts you never done much for them, either,” she declared. “You don't even ask 'em to sit down. Well, you needn't worry so far's I'm concerned. Good-by.”
She was on her way out of the office, but he called her back.
“Hi, hold on!” he called. “You ain't told me what that business was yet. Come back! You—you can set down, if you want to.”
Thankful hesitated. She was strongly tempted to go and never return. And yet, if she did, she must go elsewhere to obtain the mortgage she wished. And to whom should she go? Reluctantly she retraced her steps.
“Set down,” said Mr. Cobb, pulling forward a chair. “Now what is it you want?”
Mrs. Barnes sat down. “I'll tell you what I don't want,” she said with emphasis. “I don't want you to give me any money or to lend me any, either—without it's bein' a plain business deal. I ain't askin' charity of you or anybody else, Solomon Cobb. And you'd better understand that if you and I are goin' to talk any more.”
Mr. Cobb tugged at his whiskers.