The girl looked at him steadily, a sudden wrinkle between her eyes.
“You have something special in mind, I judge, Steve; something I don’t know about. What is it?”
“Special!” Armstrong laughed again, shortly this time. “Yes, I suppose so; though I didn’t know it when I first asked the question. Now I’m uncertain—you take the suggestion so seriously. Graham, the specialty man, made me an offer to-day to go in with him. Five thousand dollars a year to start with, and a prospect of more later on.” 48
The wrinkle between the girl’s eyes smoothed. Her hands recrossed in her lap.
“You refused the offer, I judge,” she said.
“No; that is, I told him I’d take the matter under advisement.” Armstrong glanced at his companion swiftly; but she was not looking at him and he too stared out into the night. “I wanted to hear what you said about it first.”
“Steve!”
In the darkness the man’s face colored.
“Elice, aren’t you—ashamed a bit to doubt me?”
“No.” She was looking at him now smilingly. “I don’t doubt you. I know you.”