“Then it’s because you didn’t see the way Blake looked at me,” she said.
“Yes, I saw,” he answered. “I could have hit him for it. But I fixed that.”
“You––fixed that?” she gasped.
“I certainly did. I told him I sent the box, and told him why.”
“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Then they’ll all know, and––what am I going to do? Oh, what am I going to do?”
It was a pitiful cry. He did not understand why it was so intense, because he did not see what she saw––the gossip increasing in maliciousness; the constant watching and nods and winks, until in the end it became intolerable either to her or to Farnsworth. Nor was that the possible end. To leave an office under these conditions was a serious matter––a matter so serious as to affect her whole future.
“Now, see here,” he pleaded. “Don’t take it so hard. You’re making too much of it. Blake isn’t going to talk any more. If he does––”
She raised her head.
“If he does, there isn’t anything you can do about it.”