"Mr. Wahlbaum ... was very quiet, very considerate, very attentive."
Mr. Wahlbaum, always smoking, watched her toward the finish in placid silence. And for a few moments, also, after she had finished and had turned to him with a light smile and a lighter sigh of relief.
"Miss Greensleeve," he said quietly, "I have now been here in the same office with you, day after day—excepting our summer vacations—for more than five years."
A trifle surprised and sobered by his gravity and deliberation she nodded silent acquiescence and waited, wondering a little what else was to come.
It came without preamble: "I have the honour," he said, "to ask you to marry me."
Still as a stone she sat, gazing at him. And for a long while his keen eyes sustained her gaze. But presently a slow, deep colour began to gather on his face. And after a moment he said: "I am sorry that the verdict is against me."
Tears filled her eyes; she tried to speak, could not, turned on her pivot-chair, rested her arms on the back, and dropped her face in them.