“You are satisfied your plan would work?”
“If the job were mine I’d try it; but I’m not a bridge architect,” Kit replied modestly.
“Then what are you?” Austin inquired.
Kit looked up and colored. Austin’s eyes were fixed on him and his glance was keen.
“In the Old Country I was a shipbuilder’s draftsman.”
“Now I begin to see. The drawing office got monotonous?”
“Not at all,” said Kit. “I was fired.”
Austin remarked his frankness, but he had reckoned on Kit’s being frank.
“Are you willing to talk about it?”
“I don’t see much use in talking. The company’s firing somebody was logical. I claimed they had not spotted the proper man. But you’re not very well, and I expect you’re tired.”