"How's that?"
"Well, I called up a fellow. Jack Roberts, his name is. He belongs to the club. A nice fellow. Long about a year ago—yes, I guess it was just about a year ago he borrowed twenty-five bucks from me. I hate to ask a fellow about any money I've loaned him, but, gee, when you need it you need it. I called him up and he says he's going downtown tonight and will stop and give me the money."
"Here?"
"Gosh, no. He knows Helen. I'm to meet him at Broadway and Dyckman Street. I told him I was down here attending to some business and that I ran a little short."
"Won't he tell Helen?"
"Well, that don't matter. See, if she says anything I can say I was doing some business for Steve Flynn."
"You know," Lillian said, "sometimes I think Helen must be awfully thick."
"Why?"
"Because. For instance, now, where does she think you sleep every night?"
"Sometimes in a hotel and sometimes at Steve's house. I tell her I'm too tired to make that leap home every evening. She never asks what hotel. She trusts me."
"I wonder if you couldn't really get a good job with Steve Flynn?"
"No. I saw him about it. Close? Why, that guy's closer than all the Scotchmen they tell jokes about. He wanted me to start at thirty-five hundred a year."
"Heavens!"
