"Yes," said Fanny, her heart beating horribly.
"Well," said Mr. Nix, "you're going to continue to be the only woman unless you've any objection."
"Oh, Mr. Nix," said Fanny, "I'm sure I've always tried——"
"Yes, I know," said Mr. Nix, "that's why I want you to stay—for ever if you like—or at any rate so long as I'm here."
"Oh, Mr. Nix," said Fanny again. Tears were in her eyes; the familiar green staircase, the palm and the grandfather's clock swam before her eyes.
It was Aggie, of course, who killed her happiness almost as soon as it was born.
"And what about the demobilised men?" Aggie had asked with her cold, acid smile. "I should have thought that if there were any jobs going a patriotic girl like you would have been the first to stand aside."
Fanny's heart seemed to leap into the air and then fall—stone dead at her feet. Men! Demobilised men! She had not thought of that. But for the moment the only thing she could see was Aggie's spite—her old, eternal spite.... She felt the tears rising. In a moment they would break out.
"You would like to spoil it if you could!" she cried. "Yes, you would. It's what you've always done—spoilt everything. Yes, you have—since we were children. Any little bit of happiness...."