The Difference
The two school friends accidentally met in the whirl of the city, and, of course, began a rapid fire of questions.
“What am I doing?” said Gladys, in reply to a query. “Oh, I’m a stenographer.” “What’s the boss like?” “Well, he’s quite young, and is awfully kind to me. See, he gave me this bangle and this brooch, and nearly every week he takes me to dinner and the theatre. And the salary’s quite good—$25 a week. And you, Ethel—what are you doing, dear?”
“Same as you,” snapped Ethel, “only there’s no shorthand-typing mixed up with it.”
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