A charming precision was in her answers, as if they had been framed before. "Tennis suits the strenuous adolescent; golf, the bay-windowed corporation head. One is behind me; the other I pray never to become. I don't love corporations," she smiled. The smile covered her preliminary judgment; his questions were banal, almost gauche; but what could one expect of a worshiper of Dorothy?
What did the girl like, anyhow? These were sure-fire topics with all the rest Pelham knew.... Perhaps the Post, on the table nesting her arm. "Are you enjoying the latest Chambers' story? I don't think it's up to 'The Danger Mark'—though, of course, Chambers'——"
"I enjoyed part of the opening—you know, the dry-goods inventory—the lingerie part. It's informative: a Sears-Roebuck for the Broadway shops. But—beyond that!"
"What are you interested in?" Inability to pigeon-hole her among the feminine types he was used to called forth this poverty-stricken directness.
"I'm interested in what you are doing, Mr. Judson, ever since 'Thea mentioned it." Her straightforward eyes lit up for the first time.
"She's done nothing but sing your praises for the last few weeks." He rose in fatuous gracefulness to her opening.
The frank eyes measured him coolly. "What interested me was your work. You have charge of the mining at your father's place, haven't you?"
A bit dazed by the sudden shift, he told his connection with the management.
Her nod of satisfaction puzzled him. "I've always wanted to learn something of the other half of the story; I know the miners' side, from work with the United Charities. And I've been studying reports, until a sheer excess of wrath made me lay them aside."
What odd reading for a girl! "How did you happen to take that up?"