He searched for a telephone sign. It was necessary that he find one immediately. He had once spent six weeks in and about this marvellous city, and he had a vague recollection of the blue-and-white enamel signs. Shortly he found one. It was a pay station in the rear of a news and tobacco shop.
He entered a booth, but discovered that he had no five-cent pieces in his purse. He hurried out to the girl behind the cigar stand. She was exhibiting a box of cigars to a customer, who selected three, paid for them, and walked away. Hawksley, boiling with haste to have his affair done, flung a silver coin toward the girl.
"Five-cent pieces!"
"Will you take them with you or shall I send them?" asked the girl, earnestly.
"I beg pardon!"
"Any particular kind of ribbon you want the box tied with?"
"I beg your pardon!" repeated Hawksley, harried and bewildered. "But I'm in a hurry"
"Too much of a hurry to leave out the bark when you ask a favour? I make change out of courtesy. And you all bark at me Nickel! Nickel! as if that was my job."
"A thousand apologies!"—contritely.
"And don't make it any worse by suggesting a movie after supper. My mother never lets me go out after dark."
