“You’re bound to, daddy! You work so hard!”
“Cummings may have scrapped me too soon,” he muttered and looked at her with an ironic grin and a fanatical gleam in his eyes that caused her to wonder for a moment whether from his lonely brooding he might not be going mad.
A man came in to see about some patterns he had ordered. They were not ready and even while Durland expressed his regret at the delay Grace saw that his thoughts were still upon his inventions. The customer manifested impatience, remarking angrily as he left that if his work wasn’t ready the next day he would take it elsewhere.
“Really, daddy, you oughtn’t to keep people waiting when you take their jobs. If you’ll only build up this pattern and model business you can make a good thing of it.”
“You’re right, Grace. But I can’t keep my mind off my own work. I know all the weaknesses of my old things that Cummings is making. I’m going to put him out of business!”
“That’s all right, but you mustn’t take jobs for other people unless you mean to do them right away. This place is in an awful mess!”
As she began straightening up a litter of papers on one end of the bench a bill for the rent of the room caught her eye.
“Don’t look at these things, Grace!” he pleaded, as he tried to snatch the bill. “I’ll be able to pay that in a day or two. I got a check coming for a model and it’ll cover the rent.”
Her questioning elicited the information that the check had been expected for several weeks and that the man for whom the model had been made left town without leaving his address.
“It seems pretty uncertain, daddy, and this rent’s three weeks over due. I have a little money in the trust company and I’ll send my check for it.”