He: “I won’t take it; I can’t! I’ll never take it!”
She, standing with the money in her outstretched hand: “I have your word as a gentleman that you will take it.”
He, gasping: “Oh, well—I will take it—I will”—He clutches the money, and rushes toward the door. “Good-evening; ah—good-by”—
She, calling after him: “The receipt, Mr. Ransom! Please sign this receipt!” She waves the paper in the air.
He: “Oh, yes, certainly! Where is it—what—which”—He rushes back to her, and seizing the receipt, feels blindly about for the pen and ink. “Where shall I sign?”
She: “Read it first.”
He: “Oh, it’s all—all right”—
She: “I insist upon your reading it. It’s a business transaction. Read it aloud.”
He, desperately: “Well, well!” He reads. “‘Received from Miss Ethel Reed, in full, for twenty-five lessons in oil-painting, one hundred and twenty-five dollars, and her hand, heart, and dearest love forever.’” He looks up at her. “Ethel!”
She, smiling: “Sign it, sign it!”