"
"But there must have been a time--" insinuated Emma McChesney, gently.
Blanche LeHaye grinned broadly at the two women who were watching her
so intently.
"I think I ought to tell you," she began, "that I never was a
minister's daughter, and I don't remember ever havin' been deserted by
my sweetheart when I was young and trusting. If I was to draw a
picture of my life it would look like one of those charts that the
weather bureau gets out--one of those high and low barometer things,
all uphill and downhill like a chain of mountains in a kid's
geography."
She shut her eyes and lay back in the depths of the leather-cushioned
chair. The three sat in silence for a moment.
"Look here," said Emma McChesney, suddenly, rising and coming over to
the woman in the big chair, "that's not the life for a woman like you.
I can get you a place in our office--not much, perhaps, but something
decent--something to start with. If you--"
"For that matter," put in Ethel Morrissey, quickly, "I could get you
something right here in our store.
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