And he summoned the waiter. "The
bill," said he in the manner of a man who likes to enjoy the
servility of servants.
"We hadn't paid for our supper," said Susan. "How much was it, Etta?"
"A dollar twenty-five."
"We're going to pay for that," said Fatty. "What d'ye take us for?"
"Oh, no. We must pay it," said Susan.
"Don't be foolish. Of course I'll pay."
"No," said Susan quietly, ignoring Etta's wink. And from her
bosom she took a crumpled five-dollar bill.
"I should say you _were_ new," laughed John. "You don't even know
where to carry your money yet." And they all laughed, Susan and
Etta because they felt gay and assumed the joke whatever it was
must be a good one. Then John laid his hand over hers and said,
"Put your money away."
Susan looked straight at him. "I can't allow it," she said. "I'm
not that poor--yet."
John colored. "I beg your pardon," he said. And when the bill
came he compelled Fatty to let her pay a dollar and a quarter of
it out of her crumpled five. The two girls were fascinated by
the large roll of bills--fives, tens, twenties--which Fatty took
from his trousers pocket. They stared open-eyed when he laid a
twenty on the waiter's plate along with Susan's five. And it
frightened them when he, after handing Susan her change, had
left only a two-dollar bill, four silver quarters and a dime. He
gave the silver to the waiter.
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