He
finished two short articles begun earlier in the day, and himself
departed with an eye to food. Later, he had to attend a couple of board
meetings, which ran off into protracted by-talk, and the rainy twilight
had fallen before his office knew him again.
Not long after, Queed, already hatted and overcoated to go, pushed open
the connecting door and entered. The two chatted a moment of the make-up
of next day's "page." Presently West said: "By the bye, written anything
about the reformatory?"
"Anything!" echoed Queed, with a faint smile. "You might say that I've
written everything about it--the best article I ever wrote, I should
say. It's our last chance, you know."
Queed thought of Eva Bernheimer, and a light crept into his ordinarily
impassive eye. At the same time, West's ordinarily buoyant face fell a
little.
"That so? Let me see how you've handled it, will you?"
"Certainly," said Queed, showing no surprise, though it was many a day
since any composition of his had undergone supervision in that office.
It was on the tip of West's tongue to add, "I rather think we've been
pressing that matter too hard," but he checked himself.
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