"Four—" she began. "But, Mr. Porter," she concluded, "will you be tellin' me how I'm to be livin' on all that?"
Mr. Porter's calm eyes came again into significant play.
"You have said in your application, you may recall," he dryly remarked, as he reached for that document, "you have said that you lived with your father."
For a moment her glance probed his.
"But for all that," she said, "I have to support meself entirely."
Mr. Porter was still looking at her with his emotionless, appraising gaze. He saw a girl with pretty, piquant features, with glossy black hair, with cheeks that bloomed even in privation and blue eyes that were beautiful even in tears.
"Miss Flanagan," said he, "most of the girls that start at these wages in department-stores are partly supported by their family or have some friend to help them out."
Katie flushed, but she kept her outward calm.
"An' what if they haven't got a friend?" she inquired.
Porter's cold eye never wavered.