Mr. Grossman came in, leered at her, said that Mr. Wahlbaum would be
down next day, lingered furtively as long as he quite dared, then took
himself off, still leering.
In the afternoon Athalie was notified that her salary had been raised.
She went home, elated and deeply touched by the generosity of Mr.
Wahlbaum, scarcely able to wait for the morrow to express her
gratitude to this good, kind man.
But on the morrow Mr. Wahlbaum was not there; nor did he come the day
after, nor the day after that.
The following Tuesday she was seated in the office and generally
occupied with business provided for her by the thrifty Mr. Grossman,
when that same gentleman came into the office on tiptoe.
"Mr. Wahlbaum has just died," he said.
In the sudden shock and consternation she had risen from her chair,
and stood there, one hand resting on her desk top for support.
"Pneumonia," nodded Mr. Grossman. "Sam he smoked too much all the
time. That is what done it, Miss Greensleeve."
Her hands crept to her eyes, covered them convulsively. "Oh!" she
breathed--"Oh!"
And, for a moment was not aware of the arm of Mr. Grossman around her
waist,--until it tightened unctuously.
"Dearie," he murmured, "don't you take on so hard. You ain't goin' to
lose your job, because I'm a-goin' to be your best friend same like he
was--"
With a shudder she stepped clear of him; he caught her by the waist
again and kissed her; and she wrenched herself free and turned
fiercely on him as he advanced again, smirking, watery of eye, arms
outstretched.
Then in the overwhelming revulsion and horror of the act and of the
moment chosen for it when death's shadow already lay dark upon this
vast and busy monument to her dead friend, she turned on him her dark
blue eyes ablaze; and to her twisted, outraged lips flew, unbidden,
the furious anathema of her ragged childhood: "Damn you!" she stammered,--"damn you!" And struck him across the
face.
* * * * *
Which impulsive and unconsidered proceeding left two at home out of
work, herself and Doris. Also there was very little more for
Catharine to do, the dull season at Winton's having arrived.
"Any honest job," repeated Doris when she and Athalie and Catharine
met at evening after an all-day's profitless search for that sort of
work; but honest jobs did not seem to be very plentiful in June,
although any number of the other sort were to be had almost without
the asking.