This is final!" "Shucks!" said Pete, crestfallen and disappointed; he lingered uncertainly, twisting his hat brim between his hands.
"That is final," repeated the banker.

"Was there anything else ?" "A check to cash," said Pete humbly.
He went back into the lobby, much chastened; the spring lock of the door snapped behind him.
"Wait on this gentleman, if you please, Mr.Hudson," said Marsh, and busied himself at a cabinet.
Hudson rose from his desk and moved across to the cashier's window.

His lip curved disdainfully.

Mr.Johnson's feet were brisk and cheerful on the tiles.

When his face appeared at the window, his hat and the long black cigar were pushed up to angles parallel, jaunty and perilous.