paper, with numbers on it.

How did I know he had anything like that? Why, Mag, Mag Monahan,
one would think you belonged to the Bishop's set, you're so
simple!

I had to turn on the electric light after a bit--it got so dark.
And I don't like light in other people's houses when they're not
at home, and neither am I. But there was nothing in the bedroom
except some pearl studs. I got those and then went back to the
parlor.

The desk caught my eye. Oh, Mag, it had the loveliest pictures on
it--pictures of swell actresses and dancers. It was mahogany,
with lots of little drawers and two curvy side boxes. I pulled
open all the drawers. They were full of papers all right, but
they were printed, cut from newspapers, and all about theaters.

"You can't feed things like this, Nance, to that shark of a
lawyer," I said to myself, pushing the box on the side
impatiently.

And then I giggled outright.

Why?

Just 'cause--I had pushed that side box till it swung aside on
hinges I didn't know about, and there, in a little secret nest,
was a pile of those same crisp, crinkly paper things I'd been
looking for. 20--40--60--110--160--210--260--310!