Here was a splendid chance of advancing his cause with a telling compliment. Bill would have taken it, Alf felt, at once; he himself simply shuffled his feet and went very red.
"It's just to oblige me," he said shamefacedly. "I'd—I'd like you to 'ave it."
Isobel suddenly realized that this eccentric little man meant the money to be the token of a personal tribute to herself. She took the topmost note.
"Mr. Wentworth," she said in a gentle voice, "I couldn't possibly take all that money from any one. It's far more than the fund is trying to collect, and there are other things which need money so badly. But I will take this, and thank you most tremendously."
She put out her hand, and Alf, still very red, grasped it so heartily that she winced. Then he followed his visitors to the front door. As Isobel cranked up (declining Allen's proffered help with a stern reminder that he was an invalid) Alf realized that something still remained to be done. He must not let Isobel go without arranging for a future meeting. He must strike while the iron was hot.
"Could you—would you an' yer pa step in some day an' 'ave a bit o' something to eat?" he blurted out.
"I'm sure he'd be delighted," said she impulsively. The little man's earnestness had quite melted her for the time being, and she committed Sir Edward without a thought. "He is so interested in everything that comes from the East. Come to tea with us on Friday and ask him yourself."
She nodded, and disappeared in a cloud of dust.
Alf watched her out of sight, and turned to find Mustapha at his elbow.
"Farr," he said excitedly, "that's the young lady what I'm going to marry. I'm goin' to 'ave tea with 'er father on Friday. What d'you think o' that?"