"Not at all," I protested. "It just happens that I have had a number of clients from Pittsburg."
"Oh, I see!" she exclaimed, brightening, and, rising, she took my hand effusively. "You are certainly awfully kind, and I consider myself in luck to find you. You can count on us taking the house, and I hope we can count on your being there often."
It seemed as though she was wasting no time about taking my advice, but there was no necessity of my enlightening her as to my own humble place. It would be delightful, charming, splendid, I averred, as we moved toward the door together. Simply social hyperbole, I thought at that moment. Truth, real truth, I vowed to myself at the next, when I happened to glance to the street, and there in the cab, gazing up at the office-window with a frown of impatience, saw a girl's face.
"I will see you to your hansom, Mrs. Radigan," I said gallantly.
"Oh, don't bother," said she.
"I insist."
So I seized my hat, and a moment later we stood together at the curb.
"To Thirty-fourth Street ferry," she called to the cabby.
"The Long Island Railroad," I shouted at the jehu, wanting to be of service of some kind, and give reason for my presence.
The girl leaned out of the cab.