Nothing flashy, understand, or loud, but the quiet, good
stuff that spells ready money."
"M-m-m--yes. But it wasn't always so ready. Anyway, I always managed
somehow. The boy's at college. Sometimes I wonder--well, that's
another story. I've saved, and contrived, and planned ahead for a
rainy day. There have been two or three times when I thought it had
come. Sprinkled pretty heavily, once or twice. But I've just turned up
my coat-collar, tucked my hat under my skirt, and scooted for a tree.
And each time it has turned out to be just a summer shower, with the
sun coming out bright and warm."
Her frank, clear, honest, blue eyes were plumbing the depths of the
black ones. "Those few thousand dollars that you hold so lightly will
mean everything to me. They've been my cyclone-cellar. If--"
Through the writing-room sounded a high-pitched, monotonous voice with
a note of inquiry in it.
"Mrs. McChesney! Mr. Fraser! Mr. Ludwig! Please! Mrs. McChesney! Mr.
Fraser! Mr. Lud--"
"Here, boy!" Mrs.
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