"That's too bad that the prescription was burned," Miss Meyerson said. "I'll get another one from my cousin's husband to-night and bring it down here to-morrow."
"Hold on there, Miss Meyerson," Aaron said. "To-morrow them boys might be in here, and I don't want to risk it."
"Why, they wouldn't bite you, Mr. Pinsky," she declared.
"Sure, I know. But the fact is I feel kind of funny about meeting 'em again—just yet a while, anyhow."
"But, Mr. Pinsky," Miss Meyerson went on persuasively, "it's foolish of you to feel that way about it."
"Maybe it is," Aaron admitted, "but, just the same, Miss Meyerson, if you wouldn't think it fresh or anything, I'd like to come up and call on you to-night, if you don't mind, Miss Meyerson, and you could give me the prescription then."
"Why, certainly," Miss Meyerson cried heartily. She turned to her desk and opened her handbag.
"Here's my card," she said. "I live with my cousin, Mrs. Goldenreich."
"Thanks; much obliged," Aaron murmured, pocketing the card. "I'll be there at eight o'clock."
Once more he glanced furtively around him and then, with a final handshake, he started off on tiptoe for the stairs. As soon as he disappeared Miss Meyerson took up the receiver.