"It was the only real hour I've had in the whole newspaper business," Jean said slowly, "and I wish I had never come."
Pat started as if Jean had called to her for help and the little doctor said sharply:
"You don't like interviewing?"
"I despise it! It's the most futile, useless round of senseless rush that was ever invented to waste one's days. It means nothing at all to the one who does it or to any one else. It's just words, words, and more words."
For several moments Dr. Mary said nothing, but sat looking at Jean with an odd look in her small, bright eyes.
"If I am rude, you must pardon me, Mrs. Herrick, but why do you do it, if you feel that way?"
It was Jean now who was silent, but Pat knew that she was trying to find the right words for something that meant very much to her.
"Because," she said, at length, "I should go mad doing nothing at all."
Dr. Mary smoked her cigarette to the end in a silence that Pat recalled afterwards as one of the longest and tensest five minutes she had ever spent. Then the little doctor said in her brisk, off-hand fashion:
"If salary is no particular object to you, Mrs. Herrick, I could find a place for you here. We're starting so many things and are overworked as it is. We can't pay much, and as you have had no experience before, the committee may kick at giving anything. But I believe the laborer is worth his hire always, and have never found volunteer work satisfactory. If you would like to try for a couple of months—it's better all around to have it probationary—I can use you."