are overloaded. I can save you three cents a jar if you want to buy a quantity and stock up. Next week it may be back to the old price."
"And these prices change all the time, like this? Why haven't you told me such things before?"
"Well," said the butcher, trying hard not to smile, "you never asked me. You usually order by phone, and—"
"You can send me the roast—the second cut at twenty-three cents—five quarts of cranberries and a dozen jars of bacon," said Mrs. Larry out loud. Inwardly she calculated: "Fifteen cents saved on cranberries, thirty-six on bacon. Every penny cut off what it might have been, saves just a little bit more."
Safely back on the sunlit street, Mrs. Larry and Claire glanced at each other. The faces of both were a trifle flushed.
"I've had more agreeable experiences," commented Mrs. Larry, with a wry smile.
"I don't care what happens," said Claire, looking straight ahead, "I'm going to win out in this game. It means everything to me."
