"I didn't quite deserve that from you, Sylvia," he said, slowly.
Sylvia looked at him a moment.

Her face worked.

Then she glanced around to be sure nobody saw, and leaned over and touched the shoulder of Henry's mohair coat with a little, skinny hand.

"Henry," she said, pitifully.
"What, Sylvia ?" "You know I didn't mean anything.

You've always been generous about money matters.