"He isn't hard to read, is he? He's planning to—to pull wires for me.
He won't trust my work to win out."
"Ah! I was hoping you wouldn't think of that."
"I can't help it. It sticks out—you've thought of it yourself. Do you think it is a foolish pride?"
"Not foolish!" she answered quickly. "And not just pride, I think.
It's hard to realize that good work isn't always enough."
"Then you don't think me—temperamental?"
"I think you are—honest. But after all, there's no real dishonesty if you do good work. And I think"—there was a sudden return to her old shyness—"I think, if you win out, your great reward will be the good work you have done."
"How do you know that?"
"If it weren't true you wouldn't have made those sketches."
And he knew a quick stirring of gratitude that he had found this girl who understood so well, who saw the verities as he saw them and had neither laugh nor sneer nor impatience for his finickiness.
"I wish," she went on, "it could come to you as you want it. But I am glad it is coming—even though some one does pull wires to bring it to you."