“Why, the mask off a mind that is usually masked by primness. I like deception when it protects me from the sight of offensive things.”
At the boarding-house Marlowe got out. “Frank and I are going to supper,” said Theresa to Emily. “You’re coming?”
“Thanks, no,” answered Emily. “I’m tired to-night.”
Marlowe accompanied her up the steps and asked her to wait until he had returned from giving the key to Theresa. When he rejoined her, he said:
“If you’ll come to my office to-morrow at two, I think I can get you a chance to show what you can or can’t do.”
Emily’s eyes shone and her voice was a little uncertain as she said, after a silence:
“If you ever had to make a start and suddenly got help from some one, as I’m getting it from you, you’ll know how I feel.”
“I’m really not doing you a favour. If you get on, I shall have done the paper a service. If you don’t, I’ll simply have delayed you on your way to the work that’s surely waiting for you somewhere.”
“I shall insist upon being grateful,” said Emily, as she gave him her hand. She was pleased that he held it a little longer and a little more tightly than was necessary.
“I don’t like his eyes,” she thought, “but I do like the way he can look out of them. They must belie him.”