‘Clara, Clara, you know not what you do! For God’s sake forbear!’ She was again silent, and then she turned round hurriedly, hid her face, and sobbed piteously. It lasted, however, but for a minute; she rose, wiped her eyes, went to the window, came back again, and said,—
‘It is beginning to snow.’
The iron pillar bolted to the solid rock had quivered and resounded under the blow, but its vibrations were nothing more than those of the rigid metal; the base was unshaken and, except for an instant, the column had not been deflected a hair’s-breadth.
CHAPTER XIX
Mr Cohen, who had obtained the situation indirectly for Clara, thought nothing more about it until, one day, he went to the shop, and he then recollected his recommendation, which had been given solely in faith, for he had never seen the young woman, and had trusted entirely to Marshall. He found her at her dark desk, and as he approached her, she hastily put a mark in a book and closed it.
‘Have you sold a little volume called After Office Hours by a man named Robinson?’
‘I did not know we had it. I have never seen it.’
‘I do not wonder, but I saw it here about six months ago; it was up there,’ pointing to a top shelf. Clara was about to mount the ladder, but he stopped her, and found what he wanted. Some of the leaves were torn.
‘We can repair those for you; in about a couple of days it shall be ready.’
He lingered a little, and at that moment another customer entered. Clara went forward to speak to him, and Cohen was able to see that it was the Heroes and Hero Worship she had been studying, a course of lectures which had been given by a Mr Carlyle, of whom Cohen knew something. As the customer showed no signs of departing, Cohen left, saying he would call again.