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"
He
's
one
of
the
weighers
at
Arneel
&
Co.
.
He
expects
to
be
a
manager
sometime
.
"
She
smiled
.
Cowperwood
looked
at
her
speculatively
,
and
after
a
momentary
return
glance
she
dropped
her
eyes
.
Slowly
,
in
spite
of
herself
,
a
telltale
flush
rose
and
mantled
her
brown
cheeks
.
It
always
did
when
he
looked
at
her
.
"
Take
this
letter
to
General
Van
Sickle
,
"
he
began
,
on
this
occasion
quite
helpfully
,
and
in
a
few
minutes
she
had
recovered
.
She
could
not
be
near
Cowperwood
for
long
at
a
time
,
however
,
without
being
stirred
by
a
feeling
which
was
not
of
her
own
willing
.
He
fascinated
and
suffused
her
with
a
dull
fire
.
She
sometimes
wondered
whether
a
man
so
remarkable
would
ever
be
interested
in
a
girl
like
her
.
The
end
of
this
essential
interest
,
of
course
,
was
the
eventual
assumption
of
Antoinette
.
One
might
go
through
all
the
dissolving
details
of
days
in
which
she
sat
taking
dictation
,
receiving
instructions
,
going
about
her
office
duties
in
a
state
of
apparently
chill
,
practical
,
commercial
single-mindedness
;
but
it
would
be
to
no
purpose
.
As
a
matter
of
fact
,
without
in
any
way
affecting
the
preciseness
and
accuracy
of
her
labor
,
her
thoughts
were
always
upon
the
man
in
the
inner
office
--
the
strange
master
who
was
then
seeing
his
men
,
and
in
between
,
so
it
seemed
,
a
whole
world
of
individuals
,
solemn
and
commercial
,
who
came
,
presented
their
cards
,
talked
at
times
almost
interminably
,
and
went
away
.
It
was
the
rare
individual
,
however
,
she
observed
,
who
had
the
long
conversation
with
Cowperwood
,
and
that
interested
her
the
more
.
His
instructions
to
her
were
always
of
the
briefest
,
and
he
depended
on
her
native
intelligence
to
supply
much
that
he
scarcely
more
than
suggested
.
"
You
understand
,
do
you
?
"
was
his
customary
phrase
.
"
Yes
,
"
she
would
reply
.
She
felt
as
though
she
were
fifty
times
as
significant
here
as
she
had
ever
been
in
her
life
before
.
The
office
was
clean
,
hard
,
bright
,
like
Cowperwood
himself
.
The
morning
sun
,
streaming
in
through
an
almost
solid
glass
east
front
shaded
by
pale-green
roller
curtains
,
came
to
have
an
almost
romantic
atmosphere
for
her
.
Cowperwood
's
private
office
,
as
in
Philadelphia
,
was
a
solid
cherry-wood
box
in
which
he
could
shut
himself
completely
--
sight-proof
,
sound-proof
.
When
the
door
was
closed
it
was
sacrosanct
.
He
made
it
a
rule
,
sensibly
,
to
keep
his
door
open
as
much
as
possible
,
even
when
he
was
dictating
,
sometimes
not
.
It
was
in
these
half-hours
of
dictation
--
the
door
open
,
as
a
rule
,
for
he
did
not
care
for
too
much
privacy
--
that
he
and
Miss
Nowak
came
closest
.
After
months
and
months
,
and
because
he
had
been
busy
with
the
other
woman
mentioned
,
of
whom
she
knew
nothing
,
she
came
to
enter
sometimes
with
a
sense
of
suffocation
,
sometimes
of
maidenly
shame
.
It
would
never
have
occurred
to
her
to
admit
frankly
that
she
wanted
Cowperwood
to
make
love
to
her
.
It
would
have
frightened
her
to
have
thought
of
herself
as
yielding
easily
,
and
yet
there
was
not
a
detail
of
his
personality
that
was
not
now
burned
in
her
brain
.
His
light
,
thick
,
always
smoothly
parted
hair
,
his
wide
,
clear
,
inscrutable
eyes
,
his
carefully
manicured
hands
,
so
full
and
firm
,
his
fresh
clothing
of
delicate
,
intricate
patterns
--
how
these
fascinated
her
!
He
seemed
always
remote
except
just
at
the
moment
of
doing
something
,
when
,
curiously
enough
,
he
seemed
intensely
intimate
and
near
.
