She stared her question, and he laughed:
"It's a law concerning cheques. Never mind. But there's a way to beat it. I had a lot of money once. They'll take my paper at Square Jack Hennesey's. Shall we stroll up that way?"
She did not understand. It was quite evident that she had no faith in the scrap of paper either. But it was still more evident that she was willing to remain with him, even at the loss of professional opportunities—even though she was facing the obloquy of being "kidded."
"Come into my studio first," he said.
She went without protest. In the brightly lighted basement he turned and scrutinized her coolly from head to foot.
"How old?" he asked bluntly.
"Seventeen."
"How long are you on the job?"
"Two years."
"Whose are you?"