III
“You see,” said Mark Napier, “I want to start with a clean slate, Miss Craig. You will understand.”
He was sitting on the edge of his desk, facing her, and she looked steadily back at him.
“Yes, I do see!” she said.
And it was true. He wasn’t like Mr. Brown, mild and kind and easy-going.
“I want to make a success of this thing,” he had told her before, and she had responded whole-heartedly.
He couldn’t understand her miserable anxieties, and she didn’t want him to. She wanted to help him make a success.
“But—er—if you would rather,” he said now, “we could deduct a little every week.”
His dark face had flushed, but he kept his eyes upon her with an anxious intensity. If she wanted her money, she should have it.
“Oh, no, thanks!” replied Joey politely. “It’s all right as it is, thank you.”