“Clark,” he would call—meaning, of course, Miss Clark—“why don’t you catch step there?”
“By fours, right! Right, I said, right! For heaven’s sake, get on to yourself! Right!” and in saying this he would lift the last sounds into a vehement roar.
“Maitland! Maitland!” he called once.
A nervous, comely-dressed little girl stepped out. Carrie trembled for her out of the fulness of her own sympathies and fear.
“Yes, sir,” said Miss Maitland.
“Is there anything the matter with your ears?”
“No, sir.”
“Do you know what ‘column left’ means?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, what are you stumbling around the right for? Want to break up the line?”