“By the way, what about dinner tonight?” he inquired. “Shall we dine at the Commodore Hotel?”
“Oh, Dad, I wish I could,” Penny sighed wistfully. “Work is stacked a mile high on my desk. I’ll just grab a sandwich somewhere and work late.”
“I am afraid you are taking the newspaper business too seriously,” replied her father. “Shall I leave the car for you?”
“It would be a help.”
“All right, Penny.”
Mr. Parker gave her the car keys, and walked on to his own newspaper. Entering the Times building, Penny spoke to several high school boys who were working in the advertising office, and climbed the stairs to her own office.
For the next half hour she checked over galley proofs, marking corrections on the margins.
“I never imagined there could be so many things to do on a weekly,” she sighed. “One never gets through.”
A board creaked in the newsroom. Penny heard it and glanced up. A shadow passed slowly across the frosted glass of the office door.
“Come in,” she called.