She appeared to be gazing rather attentively at the leather-bound prospectus Miss Daggett had withdrawn from her bag.
“That looks like something interesting, Miss Daggett,” she volunteered.
“This volume I’m holdin’ in my hand,” began that lady, professionally, “is one of the most remarkable works ever issued by the press of any country. It is the life history of one thousand men and women of world-wide fame and reputation, in letters, art, science an’ public life. No library nor parlor table is complete without this authoritative work of general information an’ reference. It is a complete library in itself, and—”
“What is the price of the work, Miss Daggett?” inquired Lydia Orr.
“Just hold on a minute; I’m coming to that,” said Miss Daggett firmly. “As I was telling you, this work is a complete library in itself. A careful perusal of the specimen pages will convince the most skeptical. Turning to page four hundred and fifty-six, we read:—”
“Just hold on a minute; I’m coming to that,” said Miss Daggett firmly.
“I’m sure I should like to buy the book, Miss Daggett.”
“You ain’t th’ only one,” said the agent. “Any person of even the most ordinary intelligence ought to own this work. Turning to page four hundred and fifty-six, we read: ‘Snipeley, Samuel Bangs: lawyer ligislator an’ author; born eighteen hundred fifty-nine, in the town of—’”
At this moment the door was pushed noiselessly open, and a tall, spare woman of middle age stood upon the threshold bearing a tray in her hands. On the tray were set forth silver tea things, flanked by thin bread and butter and a generous pile of sponge cake.