“You're simply no good at the job, that's the plain truth,” said the banker, with the candor of exasperation. “You've cost us a thousand dollars more than your salary already by mistakes and forgetfulness and all the rest of it. You'll never make your salt at this game in a million years. Don't you know it, yourself?”
Galusha nodded.
“Yes,” he said, simply.
“Eh? Oh, you do! Well, that's something.”
“I knew it when I came here.”
“Knew you would be no good at the job?”
“At this job, yes.”
“Then for heaven's sake why did you take it?”
“I told you. Aunt Clarissa wanted me to.”
“Well, you can't stay here, that's all. I'm sorry.”