Сестра Керри

Chapter III. Wee Question Of Fortune: Four-fifty A Week

           Shewalkedbythisinstitutionseveraltimeshesitating,but,findingherselfunobserved,falteredpastthescreendoorandstoodhumblywaiting.

           “Well,younglady,”observedtheoldgentleman,lookingathersomewhatkindly,“whatisityouwish?”

           “Iam,thatis,doyou—Imean,doyouneedanyhelp?”shestammered.

           “Notjustatpresent,”heansweredsmiling.“Notjustatpresent.Comeinsometimenextweek.Occasionallyweneedsomeone.”

           Shereceivedtheanswerinsilenceandbackedawkwardlyout.Thepleasantnatureofherreceptionratherastonishedher.Shehadexpectedthatitwouldbemoredifficult,thatsomethingcoldandharshwouldbesaid—sheknewnotwhat.Thatshehadnotbeenputtoshameandmadetofeelherunfortunateposition,seemedremarkable.

           Somewhatencouraged,sheventuredintoanotherlargestructure.Itwasaclothingcompany,andmorepeoplewereinevidence—well-dressedmenoffortyandmore,surroundedbybrassrailings.

           Anofficeboyapproachedher.

           “Whoisityouwishtosee?”heasked.

           “Iwanttoseethemanager,”shesaid.Heranawayandspoketooneofagroupofthreemenwhowereconferringtogether.Oneofthesecametowardsher.

           “Well?”hesaidcoldly.Thegreetingdroveallcouragefromheratonce.

           “Doyouneedanyhelp?”shestammered.

           “No,”herepliedabruptly,andturneduponhisheel.

           Shewentfoolishlyout,theofficeboydeferentiallyswingingthedoorforher,andgladlysankintotheobscuringcrowd.Itwasaseveresetbacktoherrecentlypleasedmentalstate.

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