“I was only fooling, missy.  You ’ain’t got the scare, have you?”

“The scare?”

“Yes; the bug?  You ain’t afraid you’ve ate the germ, are you?”

“I—­I dun’no’.”

“Pshaw!  There’s a lot of ’em comes in here more scared than hurt, missy.  Never throw a scare till you’ve had a examination.  For all you know, you got hay fever, eh!  Hay fever!” And he laughed as though to salve his words.

“I—­I got all them things on the red-printed list, I tell you.  I—­I got ’em all, night-sweats and all.  I—­I got ’em.”

“Sure you got ’em, missy; but that don’t need to mean nothing much.”

“I got ’em, I tell you.”

“Losing weight?”

“Feel.”

He inserted two fingers in her waistband.  “Huh!”

“You a doctor?”

He performed a great flourish.  “I ain’t in the profesh, missy.  I’m only chief clerk and bottle-washer round here; but—­”

“Where is the doctor?  That him reading down there?  Can I ask him?  I—­Oh!  Ain’t I scared!”

He placed his big, cool hand over her wrist and his face had none of its smile.  “I know you are, little missy.  I seen it in you last night when you and—­and—­”

“My—­my friend.”

“—­your friend was in here.  There’s thousands come in here with the scare on, and most of ’em with a reason; but I picked you out last night from the gang.  Funny thing, but right away I picked you.  ’A pretty little thing like her’—­if you’ll excuse me for saying it—­’a pretty little thing like her,’ I says to myself.  ’And I bet she ’ain’t got nobody to steer her!’”

“Honest, did you?”

“Gee! it ain’t none of my put-in; but when I seen you last night—­funny thing—­but when I seen you, why, you just kinda hit me in the eye; and, with all that gang round me, I says to myself:  ’Gee! a pretty little thing like her, scared as a gazelle, and so pretty and all; and no one to give her the right steer!’”

“Aw, you seen me?”

“Sure!  Wasn’t it me reached out the pamphlet to you?  You had on that there same cutey little hat and jacket and all.”

“Does it cost anything to talk to the doctor down there?”

“Forget it!  Go right down and he’ll give you a card to the Victoria Clinic.  I know them all over there and they’ll look you over right, little missy, and steer you.  Aw, don’t be scared; there ain’t nothing much wrong with you—­maybe a sore spot, that’s all.  That cough ain’t a double-lunger.  You run over to the clinic.”

“I gotta go back to the store now.”

“After store, then?”

“Free?”

“Sure!  Old Doc Strauss is on after five, too.  If I ain’t too nervy I’m off after six myself.  I could meet you after and we could talk over what he tells you—­if I ain’t too nervy?”

“I—­”

“Blaney’s my name—­Eddie Blaney.  Ask anybody round here about me.  I—­I could meet you, little missy, and—­”