The elevator drew her up almost before she could catch her breath, and landed her on the fifth floor. The man pointed along a hallway, and she followed this until a name in big gilt letters arrested her attention and caused her heart to flutter spasmodically. "Cornelius McVeigh—Investments," it read. And this was really her son's Eldorado! A mist crept over her eyes as she turned the brass knob and entered. A score of young men and women were before her, busily engaged at desks, writing and sorting over papers. Beyond them, other doors led to inner offices, and from some invisible quarter a peculiar clicking cast a disturbing influence. Whilst she was taking it in, in great sweeping glances, a small boy stepped saucily up and demanded her wishes.
"I'm Mistress McVeigh, o' the Monk Road, an' I've come to see Cornelius," she told him.
The boy looked at her, whistled over his shoulder and grimaced.
"What yer givin' us, missus?" he asked.
"I'll have ye understand I'll take no impudence," she retorted, wrathfully, shaking her parasol handle at him.
"If yer wants the boss, he's out," he informed her, with more civility.
"Is there anything I can do?" a young lady asked, coming over to her from her desk.
"It's just Mister McVeigh that I want to see. I'm his mother," Nancy replied, simply.
"You are his mother!" the girl exclaimed, doubtfully.
"That I am," Nancy declared, emphatically.