"
And the smile of Mrs. Amanda Welsh Sampson indicated that even so high-
flavored a compliment as this was not wholly displeasing to her. The
certificates of stock were produced and duly endorsed, and, tucking
them into her handbag, the widow went on her way attended by wishes for
her success which were probably the more genuine because the
transaction was only conditional.
"Well," Snaffle communed with himself after she had departed; "there
ain't no flies on the widow, and I guess she'll manage that clerk.
She's a clever one, but if she'd been a little cleverer, so as to
appreciate that I couldn't put that amount of stock on the market
without sending the price down to bed rock, she might have had the lot
at her own figure. I'd have been glad to take one fifty for it."
Meanwhile the widow had pursued her scheming way toward State Street.
The moral support of Snaffle's testimony to her ability and his
admiration for her personal appearance probably upheld her during her
interview with Mr. Iron's clerk. That young man, an exquisite creature,
who had the appearance of giving his mind largely to his collars, was
overwhelmed by the amount of stock which Mrs. Sampson produced. He
explained with some confusion that in the hurry incident upon Mr.
Iron's unexpected departure, he had neglected to make a memorandum, but
that he understood that he was to receive three thousand shares of
Princeton Platinum with Mr.
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