“I ain’t in the profesh, missy. I’m only chief clerk and bottle washer round here; but—”
“Where is the doctor? That him reading down there? Can I ask him—I—Oh! Ain’t I scared!”
He placed his big, cool hand over her wrist and his face had none of its smile.
“I know you are, little missy. I seen it in you last night when you and—and—”
“My—my friend.”
“—your friend was in here. There’s thousands come in here with the scare on, and most of ’em with a reason; but I picked you out last night from the gang. Funny thing, but right away I picked you. ‘A pretty little thing like her’—if you’ll excuse me for saying it—’a pretty little thing like her,’ I says to myself. ‘And I bet she ain’t got nobody to steer her!’”
“Honest, did you?”
“Gee, it ain’t none of my put-in; but when I seen you last night—funny thing—but when I seen you, why, you just kinda hit me in the eye; and, with all that gang round me, I says to myself: ‘Gee, a pretty little thing like her, scared as a gazelle, and so pretty and all; and no one to give her the right steer!’”
“Aw, you seen me?”
“Sure! Wasn’t it me reached out the pamphlet to you? You had on that there same cutey little hat and jacket and all.”