“They’re tooth brushes all right,” he said, and started looking over them with an owner’s interest.
“What is the price of them?” I asked.
“Well,” the man said musingly, “I don’t—jest—know. I guess it’s written on them likely,” and he began to look at the handles.
Over at the Pharmaceutical across the way the words “what price?” would have precipitated a ready avalanche of figures.
“This one seems to be seventy-five cents,” he said and handed me one.
“Is it a good tooth brush?” I asked.
“It ought to be,” he said, “you’d think, at that price.”
He had no shop talk, no patter whatever.
Then he looked at the brush again, more closely.
“I don’t believe it IS seventy-five,” he muttered, “I think it must be fifteen, don’t you?”