had the air of one who had misunderstood friendly interest. "Oh, Mr.
Britt, I know you have a kind heart underneath your--I mean that folks
don't realize how good you are unless they are near to you, as Frank
and I are. We often speak of it." She hurried on. She opened the door
admitting to the bank from the corridor and cheerily called her "Good
morning!" to the cashier as she crossed the threshold.

Mr. Britt stood in his tracks in the corridor after she closed the door.
He stared at the floor with eyes that saw nothing. He slowly raised
his hand and set his right index finger upon the toupee and scratched
meditatively through the mesh--scratched carefully, having accustomed
himself to handling his boughten hair with cautious touch. He had not
liked her intonation when she said "Frank and I." He muttered something
about his feelings. He had never thought of Frank as belonging in Vona's
calculations. He had never considered even the linking of their names,
much less their interests.

But Mr. Britt, having made money his idol, could not understand worship
directed to any other shrine. His face cleared while he pondered. A girl
who frankly declared at all times that she would do 'most anything to
help her family out of their troubles was not of a mind to hitch up with
another pauper--a combination of choreman and cashier--even though
she had linked their names casually in speech. And Mr. Britt mouthed
mumblingly some of the sentiments he had put into words that morning
when he arose. He smoothed down the top piece and looked more at ease.
He smiled when he reflected on what he would have to say to her after
Emissary Orne had returned with something in the line of fruits from
the Promised Land. His self-assurance revived; nevertheless, he tiptoed
along the corridor and listened at the door of the bank.