"Never mind his name," he said jocularly. "When the time comes I'll tell you his name. He's got it a good business, too, I bet yer."
Miss Goldblatt grew somewhat mollified.
"Why don't you bring him down to the house some night?" she suggested, whereat Philip could not forbear an ironical laugh.
"I suppose your father would be delighted to see me, I suppose. Ain't it?" he said.
"What's he got to do with it?" Miss Goldblatt asked. "Do you think because he's called in them second mortgages that me and Fannie would stand for his being fresh to you if you was to come round to the house?"
"No, I don't," Philip replied; "but just the same, anyhow, he feels sore at me."
"He's got a right to feel sore at you," Miss Goldblatt interrupted. "You come a dozen times to see my sister, and then——"
"That's where you are mistaken," Philip cried; "I come once, the first time, to see your sister, and the other times I come to see you."
"Ain't you got a nerve?" Miss Goldblatt exclaimed.
"Why do I got a nerve?" Philip asked. "Miss Goldblatt—Birdie, what's the matter with me, anyway? I'm young yet—I ain't only thirty-two—and I got a good name in the cloak and suit business as a salesman. Ask anybody. I can make it my five thousand a year easy. And supposing I am a foreigner? There's lots of up-to-date American young fellers what couldn't keep you in hairpins, Birdie."