"I see you haven't graduated from Sunday school," said Brandon, with a little sneer.
Gerald did not answer, nor did he heed the sneer.
He observed that when Brandon paid for the drinks and the game in which he was a loser, he handed the bartender a five-dollar bill and thrust the change carelessly into his vest-pocket with the air of a millionaire. Considering the moderate pay he received, Gerald was surprised at the freedom with which he spent his money.
At the end of half an hour he left the billiard-room and went home.
Mrs. Lane and Abel were still up.
"Here comes the young grocer!" said Abel, with a malicious smile.
"Are you just out of the store?" asked Mrs. Lane.
"No. I walked awhile with Mr. Brandon, the head clerk."
"How do you like it as far as you've got?" asked Abel.
"I don't like it."