You could do more by looking into things and
righting wrongs in your father's own shop than anywhere else in the
world."
She stopped, panting a little, her colour coming and going She had not
meant this at first. It was far removed from smiling civility,
this--tirade! But, as Sadie Kirk would say, "He had asked for it."
He was looking at her with his straight, level gaze. He was
astonished, maybe, but not angry. And she did not know whether to be
glad or sorry that she had not been able to rouse him to rage. His
look into her eyes was no longer that of a young man for a young
woman who means much to him. That light had died while the stream of
her words poured out.
For a moment, when she had ceased, they stared at each other in
silence, his face very grave, hers flushed and suggesting a
superficial repentance.
"Forgive me," she plumped two words into the pause, as if pumping air
into a vacuum. "I oughtn't to have said all that. It was rude."
"But true? You think it's true?"
"Yes."
"You have been working here in my father's store for months, and you
say I could do more good by righting the wrongs here than anywhere
else in the world.
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