“Let’s go over matters carefully,” she proposed.
Together they counted and calculated.
“The balance is four thousand seven hundred and ninety-eight dollars,” said Miss Smith.
‚ÄúYes, and then there‚Äôs Mrs. ¬ÝVanderpool‚Äôs check.‚Äù
“How much is that?”
Zora paused; she did not know. In her world there was little calculation of money. Credit and not cash is the currency of the Black Belt. She had been pleased to receive the check, but she had not examined it.
“I really don’t know,” she presently confessed. “I think it was one thousand dollars; but I was so hurried in leaving that I didn’t look carefully,” and the wild thought surged in her, suppose it was more!
She ran into the other room and plunged into her trunk; beneath the clothes, beneath the beauty of the Silver Fleece, till