"You'll soon get over the idea of paying for anything," she declared. "But tell me; how do you come to have money? I thought you said you had just reached the city. Is it money you brought with you? May I see it?"
Trenmore handed her some silver and a ten-dollar bill.
"Why, what curious little medals-and how pretty they are! Would you mind giving me these as a keepsake?"
"Not at all, madam," Trenmore responded gravely. Despite her obvious efforts to please, the woman's company and her open devotion to himself were becoming increasingly distasteful. As he complained to Drayton, he did not like the green eyes of her! "I suppose your own coins are different?" he queried.
"We don't use coins-is that what you call them? — for exchange. The common Numbers have their certificates of labor, somewhat like this piece of paper of yours. They are not green and yellow, though, but red, stamped with the number of hours in black. They are free to spend these as they please. But the Servants of Penn and we Superlatives charge everything to the Service."
"You mean the city pays?"
"Oh, no. These stores must do their part toward the government upkeep. That is only just. We levy on all the people equally-on the merchant and property-holder for goods; on the laborer for a portion of his time, if we require it. Penn Service makes no exceptions."
She said this with an air of great virtue, but Drayton commented, "That must be rather hard on any merchant or worker you particularly favor-especially a man of small capital or large family."
"It keeps them in line," she retorted, with a somewhat cruel set to her thin red lips.
"But," objected Drayton, harking back to the matter of money, "if your currency is not based on gold or silver, how does it possess any stability?"