Uncle Charlie looked interested. “Here to see Professor Bryan, was he? H’m. Moving against Koenig faster even than I predicted.”
Miss Kilrain had instructed her committee further as to what to do.
“You meet me on Saturday,” said Lucy to Emily, “and we will do Main Street together.”
She met Lucy on Saturday. Lucy had a list of places.
“You—you’re chairman,” said Emmy Lou, “you ask——”
It was at the door of the first place on the list, a large, open doorway, and it and the sidewalk were blocked with boxes and hogsheads and men rolling things into drays.
Lucy and Emmy Lou went in; they went on going in, back through a lane between sacks and things stacked high; it was dark and cellar-like, and smelled of sugar and molasses. At last they reached a glass door, which was open. Emmy Lou stopped and held back, so did Lucy.
“You—you’re chairman—” said Emmy Lou. It was mean, she felt it was mean, she never felt meaner.
Lucy went forward; she was pretty, her cheeks were bright and her hair waved up curly despite its braiding. She was blushing.
A lot of men were at desks, dozens of men it seemed at first, though really there were four, three standing, one in his shirt sleeves. They looked up.