“I thought so.”
“Why?”
“You look it.”
She brought the conversation to an abrupt end by resuming her work.
He wanted to ask her in just what way he looked it. He felt a bit hollow; but that was because he hadn’t breakfasted. His eyes, too, were still a little heavy; but that was the result, not of getting to bed late, but of getting up too early.
She, on the other hand, appeared fresher than she had yesterday at noon. Her eyes were 57 brighter and there was more color in her cheeks. Don had never seen much of women in the forenoon. As far as he was concerned, Frances did not exist before luncheon. But what experience he had led him to believe that Miss Winthrop was an exception––that most women continued to freshen toward night and were at their best at dinner-time.
“Mr. Pendleton.” It was Eddie. “Mr. Farnsworth wants to see you in his office.”
Farnsworth handed Don a collection of circulars describing some of the securities the firm was offering.
“Better familiarize yourself with these,” he said briefly. “If there is anything in them you don’t understand, ask one of the other men.”
That was all. In less than three minutes Don was back again at Powers’s desk. He glanced through one of the circulars, which had to do with a certain electric company offering gold bonds at a price to net four and a half. He read it through once and then read it through again. It contained a great many figures––figures running into the millions, whose effect was to make twenty-five dollars a week shrink into 58 insignificance. On the whole, it was decidedly depressing reading––the more so because he did not understand it.