Bessie said nothing to this, but applied herself more attentively to her work.
“Aren’t you going to extend that privilege to me, Miss Brown?” he continued, fondling his heavy black mustache.
“Mr. Vyce, I am very busy just now,” she replied, with some embarrassment.
The bookkeeper gave her a savage glance and then walked away without another word.
Much to her relief, he soon put on his hat and left the office abruptly, shutting the door with a slam.
At the same moment Vance came out of the private office and stepped up beside the pretty typewriter.
She looked up with a smile and did not offer to hide from his gaze the long typewritten letter on which she was engaged.
Evidently there was nothing there Vance ought not to know.
“Will you please turn on the light, Vance?” she asked, sweetly, her fingers never leaving the keys for a moment.
“Certainly, Bessie,” he replied, with alacrity, raising his hand to the shaded electric bulb above her machine and turning the key, whereupon the slender wires burst into a white glow. “How much more have you to do?”