Carroll had turned quite white when he approached him, but his regard of him was unswerving.  “It is impossible for me to-day, Mr. Day,” he replied, “but I assure you that you shall have every cent in the end.”

The tears actually sprang into the young fellow’s nervously winking eyes.  “It would be a great accommodation,” he said, in the same low tone.

“You shall have every cent as soon as I can possibly manage it,” Carroll repeated.

“I have a position, but it does not pay me very much yet,” said the young fellow, “and—­and—­I am owing considerable, and—­I need some things.”

His involuntary shrug of his narrow shoulders in his poor coat spoke as loudly as words.

Carroll was directly conscious in an odd, angry, contemptuous sort of fashion, and whether because of himself, or of that other man, or of an overruling Providence, he would have been puzzled to say, of his own outer garment of the finest cloth and most irreproachable make.  “As soon as I can manage it, every cent,” he repeated, almost mechanically, and took another sip of his soup.  The young fellow’s winking eyes, full of tears, were putting him to an ignominious torture.

The two girls had stood close behind the young man, waiting their turns.  Now the younger stepped forward, and she spoke quite audibly in her high-pitched voice.

“Good-morning, Mr. Carroll,” said she, with a strained pertness of manner.

“Good-morning,” Carroll returned, politely.  He half arose from the table.

The girl giggled nervously.  Her pretty, even beautiful face, under her crest of blond hair and the scoop of a bright red hat, paled and flushed.  “Oh, don’t stop your luncheon,” said she.  “Go right on.  I just wanted to ask if you could possibly—­”

“I am very sorry,” Carroll replied, “but to-day it is impossible; but in the end you shall not lose one dollar.”

The girl pouted.  Her beauty gave her some power of self-assertion, although in reality she was of an exceedingly mild and gentle sort.

“That is very well,” said she, “but how long do you think it will be before we get to the end, Mr. Carroll?”

“I hope not very long,” Carroll said, with a miserable patience.

“It had better not be very long,” said she, and suddenly her high voice pitched to tragedy.  “If—­if—­I can’t get another place that’s decent for a girl to take,” said she, “and if I don’t get what’s owing me before long, I shall either have to take one of them places or get a dose.”  She said the last word with an indescribably hideous significance.  Her blue eyes seemed to blaze at Carroll.

Then the other girl pressed closer.  “You needn’t talk that way,” said she to the girl.  “You know that I—­”

“I ain’t goin’ to live on you,” returned the other girl, violently.  People were beginning to look at the group.

“Now, you know, May,” said the other girl, “my room is plenty big enough for two, and I’m earning plenty to give you a bite till you get a place yourself, and you know you may get that place you went to see about yesterday.”