-bones;
"I have no money--with me."

"Why didn't you say so? How absurd not to borrow it from me----"

Something in his face checked her; then he laughed.

"There's no reason why you shouldn't know how poor I am," he said.
"It doesn't worry me, so it certainly will not worry you. I can't
afford a hat for a few days--and I'll leave you here if you wish.
Why do you look so shocked? Oh, well--then we'll stop at Genin's.
They know me there."

They stopped at Genin's and he bought a hat and charged it, giving
his addresses in a low voice; but she heard it.

"Is it becoming?" he asked airily, examining the effect in a glass.
"Am I the bully boy with the eye of glass, Mrs. Paige?"

"You are, indeed," she said, laughing. "Shall we find Celia?"

But they could not find her sister-in-law in the shop, which was
now refilling with excited people.

"Celia _non est_," he observed cheerfully. "The office is closed
by this time. May I see you safely to Brooklyn?"

She turned to the ferry stage which was now drawing up at the curb;
he assisted her to mount, then entered himself, humming under his
breath:

"To Brooklyn! To Brooklyn!
So be it. Amen.
Clippity, Cloppity, back again!"

On the stony way to the ferry he chatted cheerfully, irresponsibly,
but he soon became convinced that the girl beside him was not
listening, so he talked at random to amuse himself, amiably
accepting her pre-occupation.

"How those broker warriors did step out, in spite of Illinois
Central and a sadly sagging list! At the morning board Pacific
Mail fell 3 1/2, New York Central 1/4, Hudson River 1/4, Harlem
preferred 1/2, Illinois Central 3/4. . . . I don't care. . . .
_You_ won't care, but the last quotations were Tennessee 6's, 41, A
41 1/2. . . . There's absolutely nothing doing in money or
exchange. The bankers are asking 107 a 1/2 but sell nothing. On
call you can borrow money at four and five per cent--" he glanced
sideways at her, ironically, satisfied that she paid no
heed--"_you_ might, but I can't, Ailsa. I can't borrow anything
from anybody at any per cent whatever. I know; I've tried.
Meanwhile, few and tottering are my stocks, also they continue
downward on their hellward way.

"Margins wiped, out in war,
Profits are scattered far,
I'll to the nearest bar,
Ailsa oroon!"

he hummed to himself, walking-stick under his chin, his new hat not
absolutely straight on his well-shaped head.

A ferry-boa