"Oh, you might take a little ramble around the shop. Go anywhere. Ask any questions of anybody. They all know you."
At the door, Hal passed a tall, sinewy young man with heavy brows and rebellious hair. A slight, humorous uptilt to his mouth relieved the face of impassivity and saved it from a too formal clericalism. The visitor was too deeply concerned with some consideration of his inner self to more than glance at Hal, who heard Dr. Surtaine's hearty greeting through the closing door.
"Glad to see you, Mr. Hale. Take a chair."
The visitor bowed gravely and sat down.
"You've come to see me about—?"
"Your subscription to the East End Church Club Fund."
"I am heartily in sympathy with the splendid work your church is doing in the—er—less salubrious parts of our city," said Dr. Surtaine.
"Doubtless," returned the young clergyman dryly.
"Seems to be saving his wind," thought Dr. Surtaine, a little uneasily. "I suppose it's a question," he continued, aloud, "of the disposition of the sum—"
"No: it is not."