Our Mr. Wrenn, the Romantic Adventures of a Gentle Man by Sinclair Lewis
page 55 of 346 (15%)
page 55 of 346 (15%)
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able to squeeze out only three or four dollars, and here he
might have made ten. More in sorrow than in anger: "Of course you understand I may have a lot of trouble working you in on the _next_ boat, you coming as late as this. Course five dollars is less 'n what I usually get." He contemptuously tossed the bill on his desk. "If you want me to slip a little something extra to the agents--" Mr. Wrenn was too head-achy to be customarily timid. "Let's see that. Did I give you only five dollars?" Receiving the bill, he folded it with much primness, tucked it into the pocket of his shirt, and remarked: "Now, you said you'd fix me up for five dollars. Besides, that letter from Baraieff is a form with your name printed on it; so I know you do business with him right along. If five dollars ain't enough, why, then you can just go to hell, Mr. Trubiggs; yes, sir, that's what you can do. I'm just getting tired of monkeying around. If five _is_ enough I'll give this back to you Friday, when you send me off to Portland, if you give me a receipt. There!" He almost snarled, so weary and discouraged was he. Now, Trubiggs was a warm-hearted rogue, and he liked the society of what he called "white people." He laughed, poked a Pittsburg stogie at Mr. Wrenn, and consented: "All right. I'll fix you up. Have a smoke. Pay me the five Friday, or pay it to my foreman when he puts you on the |
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