The two girls were seated at the editorial desk. There was a pile of manuscript in front of Molly: themes recommended by Miss Pomeroy for publication and contributed book reviews. Presently only the ticking of the clock on the book shelves broke the stillness. Both girls had plunged into work with a will. Edith's soft pencil was already flying over the sheets.
"Flowing easily and lightly," Molly thought, smiling as she turned a page.
For more than half an hour they worked in silence. At last Molly, having selected from the reviews the ones she considered best for publication, leaned her chin on her hand and closed her eyes. How peaceful it was in this little office, and how nice to be with Edith who went at her work—this kind of work—with force and swiftness.
Rap, rap, rap, came the sound of knuckles on the door, while some one shook the knob and the voice of Judy called:
"Let me in, let me in, girls, I've got something to show you that will make your blood boil."
"Run away, we're awfully busy," answered Edith, who kept the door to the private office locked.
"I tell you it will make your blood boil with rage and fury," went on the extravagant Judy. "As editors of the Commune, everybody calls on you to resent an insult to college. Please let me in," she pleaded.
Molly opened the door and her impetuous friend rushed in, waving a newspaper.
"Be calm, child. Don't take on so. Sit down and tell us easily and lightly and flowingly what's the matter," she said.
"Look at this base, libelous article," Judy ejaculated, spreading the paper on the table.