"I propose," she said, "that you apply for some special editorial work on the Post."
"The Post? The Post? The morning newspaper here?"
"One of them."
He laughed, actually laughed. It was a curious, slow laugh, betraying that the muscles which accomplished it were flabby for want of exercise.
"And who writes the editorials on the Post now?"
"A gentleman named Colonel Cowles—"
"Ah! His articles on taxation read as if they might have been written by a military man. I happened to read one the day before yesterday. It was most amusing—"
"Excuse me. Colonel Cowles is a friend of mine—"
"What has that got to do with his political economy? If he is your friend, then I should say that you have a most amusing friend."
Sharlee rose, decidedly irritated. "Well—that is my suggestion. I believe you will find it worth thinking over, Good-night."