Mrs. Wladek drew herself up in the chair. "By Marya Proderenska, the gypsy fortune teller. She knows that—"
"A gypsy? You consulted a fortune teller?"
"I did."
"Mrs. Wladek, do you know what you are saying ... what you have done? Don't you realize you have committed a sin against—"
But he was speaking to empty air. Marie Wladek was gone.
Gloria looked up at the little clock and sighed briefly. Five o'clock. Another day gone already.
It was a shame, in a way, that time passed so quickly. Gloria didn't feel the least bit tired. After all, she had spent the day in helping people, and that was what made life worthwhile.
But it was quitting time. Staying late would give her the reputation of an eager beaver, and that would make her unpopular. Not that she cared for popularity for its own sake—certainly not!—but you couldn't do your best work unless the others in your office were willing to help you.
Leaving on time was a simple sacrifice to make for them.