"But Patsy is fast curing me.

And, after all, it's a wicked city to be carrying a fat pocketbook around in, as I've often observed." "My pocketbook is not exactly fat," remarked Uncle John.
"But you've money, sir, for I marked you squandering it on the train," said Patsy, severely.

"So out with it, and we'll count up, and see how much of an allowance I can make you 'till you get the job." Uncle John laughed and drew his chair up to the table.

Then he emptied his trousers' pockets upon the cloth, and Patsy gravely separated the keys and jackknife from the coins and proceeded to count the money.
"Seven dollars and forty-two cents," she announced.

"Any more ?" Uncle John hesitated a moment, and then drew from an inner pocket of his coat a thin wallet.