"You're just in
time," he cried gaily, as he seated her in the cleanest corner of the
office.
"I should think so," she answered, smiling, and glancing curiously
about the room; "looks as though you wanted a woman here."
"I do," declared George. "I've always wanted _a_ woman; haven't I told
you that often enough?"
"For shame, George Udell. I came here on business," Clara answered
with glowing cheeks.
"Well, that's mighty important business for me," Udell answered.
"You see--" but Clara interrupted him.
"What's the matter here anyway?" she asked.
"Oh--nothing; only my man is off on a drunken spree, and everybody
wants their stuff at the same time. I worked until two o'clock last
night; that's why I wasn't at your house; and I must work tonight too.
I'm--Yes, there's another;" as the telephone rang. "Hello!--Yes, this
is Udell's job office--We have the matter set up and will send you
proof as soon as possible--I'm sorry, but we are doing the best we
can--Yes--all right--I'll get at it right away--three o'clock--can't
possibly get it out before"--bang! He hung up the receiver.
"I tell you this is making me thin. If you had half the influence at
headquarters that you profess to have, I wish you'd pray them to send
me a printer."
"Why don't you get help?"
"Get help?--Get nothing! I tell you I've prayed, and threatened, and
bribed, and promised, as well as the best prayer-meeting church member
you've got, and I can't get the sign of an answer.
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