“I must go now and see some of the ladies,” she said reluctantly.
“Well, of course, if you'd rather talk to the ladies—” responded Mr. Briggs, banteringly. “Oh, it's not that!” She felt a sense of satisfaction, in her own importance as she went on to explain:
“I want to ask details and figures and so forth for my report in the paper—I'm society editor of the Beacon, you know.”
“Society editor!—you? For Pete's sake!”
At first Missy took his tone to denote surprised admiration, and her little thrill of pride intensified.
But he went on:
“What on earth are you wasting time on things like that for?”
“Wasting time—?” she repeated. Her voice wavered a little.
“I'd never have suspected you of being a highbrow,” Mr. Briggs continued.
Missy felt a surge akin to indignation—he didn't seem to appreciate her importance, after all. But resentment swiftly gave way to a kind of alarm: why didn't he appreciate it?