Penny and Jack moved away, not wishing to add to the girl’s embarrassment. But a few minutes later, in leaving the workroom, they again passed close to Sally’s machine. This time she did not see them until they were almost beside her.
“How is it going, Sally?” Jack asked in a friendly way.
Sally raised her eyes, and in so doing forgot her work. As she automatically placed the metal in line with the wheel, she held her fingers there without thinking. Another instant and they would have been mangled.
Horrified, Penny saw what was about to happen.
“Sally!” she cried. Acting instinctively, she reached and jerked the girl’s hand away from the swift turning machinery. The wheel had missed Sally’s fingers by a mere fraction of an inch.
The foreman came running again, obviously annoyed. Shutting off the machine, he demanded to know what was wrong.
Sally leaned her head weakly on the table, trying to regain composure. Her face was drained of color and she trembled as from a chill. “Thanks,” she said brokenly to Penny. “I—I don’t know what’s the matter with me tonight. I’m not coordinated right.”
“Go take a walk,” the foreman advised, not unkindly. “A nice long walk. Get a drink or something. You’ll be okay.”
“I’ll never learn,” Sally said in a choked voice.
“Sure, you will. Everyone has to go through a beginner’s stage. Get yourself a drink. Then you’ll feel better.”