“Would you come here at that figure?”
“I should prefer forty. For a period of six weeks, on trial.”
“As Mr. Edmonds seems to think it worth the gamble, I’ll take you on. From to-day, if you wish. Go out and look around.”
“Wait a minute,” interposed Edmonds. “What’s his title? How is his job to be defined?”
“Call him my representative in the news department. I’ll pay his salary myself. If he makes good, I’ll more than get it back.”
Mr. Severance’s first concern appeared to be to make himself popular. In the anomalous position which he occupied as representative between two mutually jealous departments, this was no easy matter. But his quiet, contained courtesy, his tentative, almost timid, way of offering suggestions or throwing out hints which subsequently proved to have definite and often surprising value, his retiring willingness to waive any credit in favor of whosoever might choose to claim it, soon gave him an assured if inconspicuous position. His advice was widely sought. As an immediate corollary a new impress made itself felt in the daily columns. With his quick sensitiveness Banneker apprehended the change. It seemed to him that the paper was becoming feminized in a curious manner.
“Is it a play for the women?” he asked Severance in the early days of the development.
“No.”
“You’re certainly specializing on femaleness.”
“For the men. Not the women. It’s an old lure.”