jewellery shop. The name an Oirish one, and I went there first, for luck.
Then I tried another place, but they offered less, and I ran back to
Barrymore's. They said 'twas a splendid bag, and they'd 'a give more, but
they haven't the same call for the article as if 'twas Paris or New York;
and they must make their profit."

"No doubt they will make it," Angela almost snapped. She felt as a certain
type of woman feels on hearing that the first man who ever proposed to her
has married some one else. And when the codfish, whose name was Sealman,
asked her where she would go for a trial spin, she said that he might take
her to the shop of Barrymore the jeweller. But that was when Kate had
disappeared into the hotel.

The automobile ran quietly, and the springs, as the codfish said, were
"grasshoppers." The motor made a pleasant purring, not much louder than
Timmy's when you scratched his head through the open roof of his basket.
It was a small car, but as Angela wanted it only to run about the
neighbouring country, keeping Los Angeles as a centre, she began to think
that she might as well engage it. After the poor codfish had given her
this run for nothing, how could she disappoint him?

Exactly what she meant to do when she stopped before the shop of Thomas
Barrymore & Company she could not have explained, even to herself. Perhaps
she had the curiosity to see how the bag would look in the window, in case
the jeweller had placed it there; and sure enough, he had displayed it,
anxious not to miss a sale. There were other gold bags, but this one--of
many adventures--was by far the most beautiful; and suddenly she knew why
she had come. She was going to buy the thing for herself. She could not
bear to let any one else own that bag.