When Marie Louise was well enough to go back to her business school she found riddles enough in trying to decide where this letter or that had got to on the crazy keyboard, or what squirmy shorthand symbol it was that represented this syllable or that.
She had lost the little speed she had had, and it was double drudgery regaining the forgotten lore. But she stood the gaff and found herself on the dizzy height of graduation from a lowly business school. She had traveled a long way from the snobbery of her recent years.
Davidge recognized her face and her voice when she presented herself before him. But her soul was an utter stranger. She did not invite him to call on her or warn him that she was coming to call on him.
She appeared in his anteroom and bribed one of the clerks to go to him with a message:
“A young lady’s outside––wants a position––as a stenogerpher.”
Davidge growled without looking up:
“Why bother me? Send her to the chief clerk.”
“She wants to see you specially.”
“I’m out.”
“Said Miss Webling sent her.”