"Was it all right?" she asked.
She handed him the change out of his quarter. He had had a dime's worth of food.
"Excellent," Fairfax assured her; "first-rate."
Her sleeves came only to the elbow, her fore-arm was firm and white as milk. Her hands were coarse and red; she was pretty and her cheerfulness touched him.
He wanted to ask for a wash-up, but he was timid.
"I'll be back at lunchtime," he said to her, nodding, and the girl, charmed by his smile, asked hesitatingly—
"Workin' here?"
And as Fairfax said "No" rather quickly, she flashed scarlet.
"Excuse me," she murmured.