“But it can't come to anything,” Hutchinson began to bluster. “It won't do—”
“He's coming to the door, he's turning the handle,” said Little Ann.
Tembarom came in. He was fresh with recent face-washing, and his hair was damp, so that a short lock curled and stood up. He had been uptown making frantic efforts for hours, but he had been making them in a spirit of victorious relief, and he did not look tired at all.
“I've got it!” he cried out the moment he entered. “I've got it, by jingo! The job's mine for keeps.”
“Galton's give it to you out and out?” Hutchinson was slightly excited himself.
“He's in the bulliest humor you ever saw. He says I've done first-rate, and if I go on, he'll run me up to thirty.”
“Well, I'm danged glad of it, lad, that I am!” Hutchinson gave in handsomely. “You put backbone into it.”
Little Ann stood near, smiling. Her smile met Tembarom's.
“I know you're glad, Little Ann,” he said. “I'd never have got there but for you. It was up to me, after the way you started me.”
“You know I'm glad without me telling you,” she answered. “I'm RIGHTDOWN glad.”