“But, to save them, you have ruined Ned,” pursued Hitt.
The girl turned to Haynerd, who sat doubled up in his chair, the picture of despair. “I haven’t ruined you, Ned.” It was the first time she had used this name in addressing him. “Things never happen, you know. And if you have been pushed out of this business, it is because it isn’t fit for you, and because you’ve been awakened. You are for higher, better things than the publishing of such a magazine as the Social Era. I knew you just couldn’t stay at this work. You have got to go up––”
“Eh!” Haynerd had roused out of his torpor. “Go up? Yes, I’ve gone up, nicely! And I was making ten thousand dollars a year out of it! It was a bully proposition!” he blurted.
The girl smiled. “I wasn’t speaking of money,” she said.
“But I was!” retorted Haynerd. “When I talk, it’s in dollars and cents!”
“And that’s why your talk is mostly nonsense,” put in Hitt. “The girl’s right, I guess. You’ve stagnated here long enough, Ned. There’s no such thing as standing still. Progress is a divine demand. It’s now your move.”
“But––good Lord! what am I to do?” wailed the man.
“You now have a grand opportunity,” said Carmen, taking his hand.
“Opportunity!”