“Not Darley; not once in all this last year?”
No answer.
“Not Darley—even once?”
“I think not.”
The eyes of the man smiled, the eyes only.
“To return again, old man Roberts had a desire to celebrate. The date was on his brain. He didn’t even take off his coat after he’d seen it—normally the old man works in his shirt-sleeves, you know—he just walked back from his private room into the general office. ‘To-day’s a holiday,’ he said.
“They stared, the office force—there are seven of them. They didn’t say a word; they just stared.
“‘I say to-day’s a holiday,’ the old man repeated, ‘shut up shop.’”
There was a silence. In it Miss Gleason glanced up—into two eyes smiling out of a blank face. Her own dropped. Simultaneously, also, her ears tinged scarlet. 170
Darley Roberts laughed a low tolerant laugh at his own expense.