"Af'ernoon," he began in a loud thick voice. "Ga l'il prop'sition."
If he had wanted silence he obtained it. A sort of awe descended upon
the half-dozen women marketing and upon the gray-haired ancient who in
cap and apron was slicing chicken.
Anthony pulled a batch of papers from his flapping briefcase and waved
them cheerfully.
"Buy a bon'," he suggested, "good as liberty bon'!" The phrase pleased
him and he elaborated upon it. "Better'n liberty bon'. Every one these
bon's worth _two_ liberty bon's." His mind made a hiatus and skipped to
his peroration, which he delivered with appropriate gestures, these
being somewhat marred by the necessity of clinging to the counter with
one or both hands.
"Now see here. You taken up my time. I don't want know _why_ you won't
buy. I just want you say _why_. Want you say _how many!_"
At this point they should have approached him with check-books and
fountain pens in hand. Realizing that they must have missed a cue
Anthony, with the instincts of an actor, went back and repeated
his finale.
"Now see here! You taken up my time. You followed prop'sition. You
agreed 'th reasonin'? Now, all I want from _you_ is, how many
lib'ty bon's?"
"See here!" broke in a new voice.
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