But he whirled round in his office chair and asked her quite civilly what she wanted.
“You advertised for embroiderers,” began Patty, feeling rather small and worthless, “so I came——”
“Yes, yes,” said the man, as she paused. “Can you embroider? We use only the best. Have you samples of your work?”
“I have,” said Patty, beginning to untie her box.
But her fingers trembled, and she couldn’t unknot the cord.
The man took it from her, not rudely, but as if every moment were precious. Deftly he opened the parcel, and gave a quick glance at Patty’s exquisite needlework on the doilies and centrepieces she had brought.
“Do it yourself?” he asked, already closing the box again.
“Yes, of course,” said Patty, indignant at the implication.
“No offence; that’s all right. Your work goes. Report at Department B. Good-day.”
He handed her the box, whirled round to his desk, and was immediately at his work again.