A slow shake of her russet head was her reply.
"I'll give you a recommendation."
"I won't need none, Mr. Beekman."
"I—I think I've got fifty dollars somewhere in my clothes."
"I was paid my wages only this mornin'."
He looked at her in gray-eyed amazement.
"But I say," he began, "you aren't going to—you don't mean you won't——"
She did not answer. She moved slowly and quietly away. She went to the kitchen, got her shabby beaver hat and her long coat.
Philip, in the pantry, remained as she had left him, erect, eyes and mouth wide.
A moment later he heard the area door open and close.