for a house which manufactured false teeth. He had been promoted to a western territory where, with the great boom in the silver mines, the market for gold teeth had risen enormously.
He was a little fat man, with enormous black mustaches, all aglow with his promotion. "It's the best gold tooth territory in America," he told Philip.
The apartment rented for thirty dollars a month. The bubbling salesman would leave the furniture behind for two hundred and fifty dollars. Philip could move in the day after to-morrow.
He left the place, his whole body warmed by the satisfaction of having acted, of having done something definite. But the thing was not settled yet, because his mother still remained to be told.
He found her in the kitchen of the restaurant, superintending the preparation of mince-meat according to a recipe of her own which eliminated all intoxicating liquors. Standing over the negress who did the work, she was the essence of vigor and authority, her face crimsoned by the heat of the place, her hair all in disorder.
"Ma," he said to her. "I have something I want to discuss with you."
After bidding the negress wait until she returned, she followed him quickly, surprised and troubled by the look in his eye and the set of his jaw. The talk took place at the table behind the screen where Moses Slade came every day to eat.
"It's about Naomi, Ma . . . I've taken some rooms for her to live in. She won't trouble you any longer. We'll move out on Tuesday."
She looked at him for a moment in astonishment.
