Acting on a sudden
impulse, he went back to the table and took half a dozen cigars out of
the box. He was about to stuff them into his pocket when Virginia,
stepping quickly forward, interfered:
"Jimmie!" she exclaimed indignantly.
He stayed his hand and rather shamefacedly placed the cigars back in
the box. Looking up, he demanded:
"Why not? He wouldn't mind."
"Just the same, it isn't a gentlemanly thing to do," she said
severely.
"If it comes to that," he retorted sharply, "I ain't a gentleman--I'm
a shipping clerk."
"Then, of course, there's nothing more to say," she answered, turning
her back. Picking up a book, she dropped into a chair and, ignoring
him, relapsed into a dignified silence.
But Jimmie was not to be suppressed by a mere rebuff. After a long,
sulky silence, during which he puffed viciously at his cigar, he
followed his prospective sister-in-law across the room. After staring
at her for some time, he inquired:
"How did you first come to know Mr. Stafford?"
At first the girl made no answer, pretending to be absorbed in what
she was reading. He repeated the question so pointedly that she would
not ignore it any longer. Looking up, she said rather impatiently:
"How many more times must I tell you? I was at my desk in the hotel
about three months ago and he came and wanted long distance--I think
it was Washington. There was some trouble getting his party and, as
people will, we got into conversation about it.
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