Blix decided that she would put off her walk until the afternoon, and call on Mrs.Rivers at once, and ask how Condy did.
She got away from the flat about ten o'clock, but on the steps outside met Condy dressed as if for bicycling, and smoking a cigarette.
"I've got eleven dollars!" he announced cheerily.
"But I thought it was ptomaine poisoning!" she cried with sudden vexation.
"Pshaw! that's what the doctor says.

He's a flapdoodle; nothing but a kind of a sort of a pain.

It's all gone now.

I'm as fit as a fiddle--and I've got eleven dollars.

Let's go somewhere and do something." "But your work ?" "They don't expect me.