The reassuring swish of a broom and their casual chatter--he heard only
those commonplace sounds!

She was asking Vaniman if he had mislaid her dustcloth.

Vaniman replied in a tone which indicated that the two were at some
distance from each other. There was no subdued conference--no murmuring
of mushiness such as a meeting in the morning might be expected to
elicit in case there was any sort of an understanding between them. Mr.
Britt tiptoed away from the door and braced back his shoulders and gave
himself a shake of satisfied confidence, and went serenely into his
office, plucking a cigar from his vest pocket. By permitting himself to
smoke again he was breaking the habit of confining himself to one cigar
after breakfast. But many men in moments of exaltation seek tobacco or
alcohol.

Mr. Britt felt that he had broken the ice, at any rate. Mr. Britt
decided that the girl was heart-free and entertained sensible ideas
about the main chance--and she had had a good word to say about Britt's
kind heart. Mr. Britt was sure that Frank Vaniman knew his place and was
keeping it. Therefore, Mr. Britt lighted a fresh cigar and blew visible
smoke rings and inflated invisible mental bubbles and did not pay any
more attention to what Prophet Elias was saying outside. And as if the
Prophet had received a psychological hint that his text shafts were no
longer penetrating the money king's tough hide, the diminuendo of his
orotund marked the progress of his departure.

Usually Mr. Britt went across into the bank and hung around after the
girl arrived. On this morning he stayed in his office. According to his
notion, his advances to her in the corridor, though he had not intended