"Stand out of the light, McNutt."
The agent shifted his position.
"Them books, sir——"
"Oh, take 'em away."
"What!"
"I don't read novels."
McNutt scratched his head, perplexed at the rebuff. His "dee looks" speech had usually resulted in a sale. An idea flashed across his brain—perhaps evolved by the scratching.
"The young lady, sir—"
"Oh, the girls are loaded with books," growled the nabob.
The agent became desperate.