"Um!… Job! What's the matter with the job you've got?"
"I haven't any job…. I—I'm through with Bonbright Foote,
Incorporated—forever."
"That's a darn long time. Sit down. Waiting for it to pass will be easier that way…. Now spit it out." He was studying the boy with his bright gray eyes, wondering if this was the row he had been expecting. He more than half hoped, as he would have expressed it, "that the kid had got his back up." Bonbright's face, his bearing, made Lightener believe his back WAS up.
"I've got to have a job—"
"You said that once. Why?"
"I'm going to be married to-morrow—"
"What?"
"I'm going to be married to-morrow—and I've got to support my wife—decently…"
"It's that little Frazer girl who was crying all over my office to-day," said Lightener, deducing the main fact with characteristic shrewdness. "And your father wouldn't have it—and threw you out…or did the thing that stands to him for throwing out?"
"I got out. I had gotten out before. Yesterday morning…. Somebody told him I'd been going to see Ruth—and he was nasty about it. Called it a liaison….I—I BURNED UP and left the office. I haven't been back."