He waited until Graham had joined the office force in the mill lunchroom, and invented an errand back to Graham's office. Anna was there, powdering her nose with the aid of a mirror fastened inside her purse.
Joey had adopted Clayton with a sort of fierce passion, hidden behind a pose of patronage.
“He's all right,” he would say to the boys gathered at noon in the mill yard. “He's kinda short-tempered sometimes, but me, I understand him. And there ain't many of these here money kings that would sit up in a hospital the way he did with me.”
The mill yard had had quite enough of that night in the hospital. It would fall on him in one of those half-playful, half-vicious attacks that are the humor of the street, and sometimes it was rather a battered Joey who returned to Clayton's handsome office, to assist him in running the mill.
But it was a very cool and slightly scornful Joey who confronted Anna that noon hour. He lost no time in preliminaries.
“What do you think you're doing, anyhow?” he demanded.
“Powdering my nose, if you insist on knowing.”
They spoke the same language. Anna knew what was coming, and was on guard instantly.
“You cut it out, that's all.”
“You cut out of this office. And that's all.”