"No, not that!" Winona rose, flinging down the manicuring sticks, drawing a deep breath. "Only, when I see you throwing over a chance like that from Blainey—"
"What! You want the job?" exclaimed Doré, struck by the thought.
"Want it?" cried the girl bitterly. "I'd go up Broadway on my knees to get it!"
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Ah! this has got to end sometime," said the girl, locking and unlocking her fingers. "Snyder was right. It's work—work! She's lucky!"
Doré became suddenly thoughtful. Between Salamanders real confidences are rare. She knew nothing of the girl who was separated from her but by a wall, but there was no mistaking the pain in her voice.
"I'm sorry!" she said.
"Yes, I've come to the end of my rope," said Winona. "I'm older than you—I've played too long!"
"You shall have the job!"
"Oh, it's easy to—"