“I’d never quit you if you gave me chances like that,” Sheila sighed, hopelessly.
“So they all tell me,” said Reben. “Then they chuck me for the management of Cupid & Co. Would you be willin’ to sign a five years’ contract with me, young lady?”
“In a minute!”
“Well, well! I’ll see what can be done. Good night!”
He left her to fret herself to an edge with the insomnia of frantic ambition. The next day he sent her a contract to look over.
“Aha!” said Sheila to Mrs. Vining. “That’s his little game. He wanted me all the time. Why couldn’t he have said so? I’ll make him pay for being so clever.”
She sent the contract back with emendations.
He emended her emendations and returned it to her.
She emended further and wrote in the margin, “Oh, Mr. Reben!” and, “Greedy, greedy!”
He rather enjoyed the duel with the little haggler. He belonged to the race that best manages to combine really good art with really good business and really good generosity.