"So, naturally, I don't feel so bad as I might about it," Morris went on.
"Naturally?" the lady commented. She looked about her apprehensively. "Perhaps we'd better
go back to the Prince William. Don't you think so?"
"Why, you was going up to the Heatherbloom Inn with Max Tuchman, wasn't you?" Morris said.
"How did you find that out?" she asked.
"A small-size bird told it me," Morris replied jocularly. "But, anyhow, no jokes nor nothing, why shouldn't we go up and have lunch at the Heatherbloom Inn? And then you can come down and look at our line, anyhow."
"Well," said the lady, "if you can show me those suits as well as Mr. Tuchman could, I suppose it really won't make any difference."
"I can show 'em to you better than Mr. Tuchman could," Morris said; "and now so long as you are content to come downtown we won't talk business no more till we get there."
They had an excellent lunch at the Heatherbloom Inn, and many a hearty laugh from the lady testified to her appreciation of Morris' naïve conversation. The hour passed pleasantly for Morris, too, since the lady's unaffected simplicity set him entirely at his ease. To be sure, she was neither young nor handsome, but she had all the charm that self-reliance and ability give to a woman.
"A good, smart, business head she's got it," Morris said to himself, "and I wish I could remember that name."