a pin and the angle of her hat. Then
she took a swift glance about the office.

"I guess the boys must have gone," she said to Don. "This is the lunch
hour."

Don rose.

"Thank you for letting me know," he replied cordially.

"Most of them get back at one," she informed him.

"Then you think I may go out until then?"

"I don't see why not. But I'd be back at one sharp if I were you."

"Thanks, I will."

Don gave her an opportunity to go out the door and disappear before he
himself followed. He had a notion that she could have told him, had he
asked, where in this neighborhood it was possible to get the most food
for the least money. He had a notion, also, that such a question would
not have shocked her. It was difficult to say by just what process he
reached this conclusion, but he felt quite sure of it.

Don was now firmly determined to invest a portion of his thirteen
cents in something to eat. It had no longer become a matter of
volition, but an acute necessity. For twenty minutes he wandered about
rather aimlessly; then, in a sort of alley, he found a dairy lunch
where in plain figures coffee was offered at five cents a cup, and egg
sandwiches at the same price. The place was well filled, but he was
fortunate in slipping into a chair against the wall just as a man was
slipping out. It was a chair where one broad arm served as a table.
Next to him sat a young woman in a black hat, munching a chocolate
eclair. She looked up as he sat down, and frowned. Don rose at once.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't know you were here. Honest I didn't."

"Well, it's a public lunch, isn't it?" she inquired. "I'm almost
through."

"Then you don't mind if I stay?"

"It's no business of mine," she said curtly.

"But I don't want you to think I--I'm intruding."

She glanced at him again.

"Let's forget it," she decided. "But you might sit there all day and
you wouldn't get anything to eat."

He looked around, uncertain as to just what she meant.

"You go to the counter, pick out what you want, and bring it back
here," she explained. "I'll hold your seat for you."

Don made his way into the crowd at the rear. At the counter he found
he had for ten cents a wide choice; but her eclair had looked so good
he selected one of those and a cup of coffee. In returning he lost a
portion of the coffee, but he brought the eclair through safely. He
deposited it on the arm of the chair and sat down. In spite of his
utmost eff