y small, after
all. Say, I bet you don't remember me."

In the porch light Una beheld a heavy-shouldered, typical American
business man, in derby hat and clipped mustache, his jowls shining with
a recent shave; an alert, solid man of about forty-five. She remembered
him as a man she had been glad to meet; she felt guiltily that she ought
to know him--perhaps he was a Wilkins client, and she was making future
difficulty in the office. But place him she could not.

"Oh yes, yes, of course, though I can't just remember your name. I
always can remember faces, but I never can remember names," she
achieved.

"Sure, I know how it is. I've often said, I never forget a face, but I
never can remember names. Well, sir, you remember Sanford Hunt that went
to the commercial college--"

"Oh, _now_ I know--you're Mr. Schwirtz of the Lowry Paint Company, who
had lunch with us and told me about the paint company--Mr. Julius
Schwirtz."

"You got me.... Though the fellows usually call me 'Eddie'--Julius
Edward Schwirtz is my full name--my father was named Julius, and my
mother's oldest brother was named Edward--my old dad used to say it
wasn't respectful to him because I always preferred 'Eddie'--old codger
used to get quite het up about it. Julius sounds like you was an old
Roman or something, and in the business you got to have a good easy
name. Say, speaking of that, I ain't with Lowry any more; I'm chief
salesman for the AEtna Automobile Varnish and Wax Company. I certainly
got a swell territory--New York, Philly, Bean-Town, Washi'nun,
Balt'more, Cleveland, Columbus, Akron, and so on, and of course most
especially Detroit. Sell right direct to the jobbers and the big auto
companies. Good bunch of live wires. Some class! I'm rolling in my
little old four thousand bucks a year now, where before I didn't hardly
make more 'n twenty-six or twenty-eight hundred. Keeps me on the jump
alrightee. Fact. I got so tired and run-down-- I hadn't planned to take
any vacation at all, but the boss himself says to me, 'Eddie, we can't
afford to let you get sick; you're the best man we've got,' he says,
'and you got to take a good vacation now and forget all about business
for a couple weeks.' 'Well,' I says, 'I was just wondering if you was
smart enough to get along without me if I was to sneak out and rubber at
some scenery and maybe get up a flirtation with a pretty summer
girl'--and I guess that must be you, Miss Golden!--and he laughs and
sa