"
"No? The boy at the door said he'd seen you, or something
answering to your description."
"So he did. I came to see your father. He was out."
"What time?"
"From eleven on."
"Father? No, I don't think so."
"His secretary came down and told me so, or sent word each time."
She smiled pityingly at him.
"Of course. That's what a secretary is for."
"To tell lies?"
"White lies. You see, dad is a very busy man, and an important
man, and many people come to see him whom he hasn't time to see.
So, unless he knew your business, he would naturally be 'out' to
you."
The corners of the young man's rather sensitive mouth flattened out
perceptibly.
"Ah, I see. My mistake. Living in countries where, however queer
the people may be, they at least observe ordinary human
courtesies, one forgets--if one ever knew."
"What did you want of dad?"
"Oh, to borrow four dollars of him, of course," he replied dryly.
"You needn't be angry at me. You see, dad's time is valuable."
"Indeed? To whom?"
"Why, to himself, of course."
"Oh, well, my time--However, that doesn't matter.
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