THE STINGY RECEIVER
BY ELEANOR HALLOWELL ABBOTT
AUTHOR OF "MOLLY MAKE BELIEVE," "THE WHITE LINEN NURSE," ETC.
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY
FANNY MUNSELL
NEW YORK
THE CENTURY CO.
1917
Copyright, 1917, by
THE CENTURY Co.
Copyright, 1916, by
THE CROWELL PUBLISHING COMPANY
Published, February, 1917
TO
KATHERINE K. ABBOTT
A GENEROUS GIVER
THIS BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY
DEDICATED
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
| PAGE | |
| The girl in her Norse glow and blondness would have been a marked figure anywhere | Frontispiece |
| "Oh, drat you women!" he grinned sheepishly. "Well, goahead! One—two—three—four—five—six—seven—eight—nine—TEN!" | 9 |
| By craning his neck around the corner of the piano, he notedwith increasing astonishment that the rivulet sprang from the black ferule of an umbrella | 87 |
| "Excuse me, Miss Kjelland," he said; "but this is not apicnic—it is a clinic" | 99 |
| As coolly as if she had been appraising a new dog or pussy,Mrs. Tome Gallien narrowed her eyes to both the vision and the announcement | 127 |
THE STINGY RECEIVER
I
"If I were fifty years old," said the Young Doctor quitebluntly, "and found myself suddenly stripped of practicallyall my motor powers except my pocketbook and my sense ofhumor; and was told that I could make one wish——"
"But I am fifty years old," admitted the Sick Woman. "And Ido find myself stripped of practically all my motor powers,except my pocketbook and my sense of humor!"
"Then for Heaven's sake—wish!" snapped the Young Doctor.
"Oh, my goodness!" mocked the Sick Woman. "You're not by anychance a—a fairy god-doctor, are you?"
"Fairy god-doctor?" bristled the young 3man. "The phrase is anunfamiliar one to me," he confided with some hauteur.
Quizzically then for a moment among her hotel pillows thewoman lay staring out through the open window into theindefinite slate-roofed vista of Beyond—and Beyond—andBeyond. Then so furtively that the whites of her eyes showedsuddenly like a snarling dog's she glanced back at the YoungDoctor's grimly inscrutable face.
"You're quite sure that it isn't a will you want me to make?Not a wish?" she asked.
"Quite sure," said the Young Doctor, without emotion.
As two antagonists searching desperately for some weak spotin each other's mental armor, the patient's eyes narrowed tothe doctor's, the doctor's to the patient's.
It was the patient who fled first from the probe.
"How many years can you give me?" she surrendered dully.
"I can't give you any! I can't afford it!" slapped the YoungDoctor's brisk, cool voice.
"How many years can you sell me, then?" ...