Ever, dear Polly, faithfully yours,
Judith.
“My contemplated trip,” quoted Polly softly. The haggard lines in her face were accentuated by the merciless electric light which beat down from a lamp but a few feet above her typewriter desk. “Judith, are you mad!”
Slowly her eyes turned to the third note. It had no commencement other than the words:
In recognition of your valuable services I am increasing your salary fifty dollars per month. Please arrange to give me additional hours daily.
Yours, etc.,
Robert Hale.
CHAPTER XI
THE THREAT
From their corner table Judith watched, with total lack of interest, the gay throng which filled the public dining room at Rauscher’s, although the scene was one to arrest attention. The smartly gowned women, the foreign attachés in their gay uniforms in contrast to the khaki-clad army officers and the somber evening dress of numerous civilians, formed an attractive center for the mirrored walls and shaded lights. Judith’s inattention was a source of displeasure to her mother whose efforts to sustain the conversation had failed.
“Really, Judith,” she remonstrated, “it is very annoying of you to make me repeat my remarks.”