"It seems to be a fortnight's notice."
"And that," said Mr. Goble, "is what it is!"
Wally uttered an exclamation.
"Do you mean to say...?"
"Yes, I do!" said the manager, turning on him. He felt that he had out-manœuvred Wally. "I agreed to let her open in New York, and she's done it, hasn't she? Now she can get out. I don't want her. I wouldn't have her if you paid me. She's a nuisance in the company, always making trouble, and she can go."
"But I would prefer not to go," said Jill.
"You would prefer!" The phrase infuriated Mr. Goble. "And what has what you would prefer got to do with it?"
"Well, you see," said Jill, "I forgot to tell you before, but I own the piece!"
III
Mr. Goble's jaw fell. He had been waving his hands in another spacious gesture, and he remained frozen with outstretched arms, like a semaphore. This evening had been a series of shocks for him, but this was the worst shock of all.