“That's pretty much so,” Fulkerson admitted. “Anyhow, the publisher seems disposed to do so.”
“Are you the publisher? I thought it was Mr. Dryfoos,” said Alma.
“It is.”
“Oh!”
The tone and the word gave Fulkerson a discomfort which he promptly confessed. “Missed again.”
The girls laughed, and he regained something of his lost spirits, and smiled upon their gayety, which lasted beyond any apparent reason for it.
Miss Woodburn asked, “And is Mr. Dryfoos senio' anything like ouah Mr. Dryfoos?”
“Not the least.”
“But he's jost as exemplary?”
“Yes; in his way.”