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The red-haired girl, Sadie supposed, had perhaps come to the Hands armed with an introduction from some "lady friend." This theory would account for Meggison's mysterious murmur of, "That's different." What should she Win do if Father invited her to dine with him, as it seemed he did invite some of the girls?
With a certain stiff young dignity Win shut the office door. "You may as well sit down. I want to talk to you." She sat down in the chair of Mr. Meggison's absent stenographer. By this time the pink of her cheeks had deepened to red. She was wondering more than ever what he was going to do, and what she would do when he had done it.
Meggison's real motive for putting her into the toy department. Her duties were more exhausting than they had been downstairs That suggested penance. On the other hand, they had more variety and amusement, for there were five hundred different kinds of toys to sell to five hundred different types of people. That suggested benignity.
He and Sadie had been good chums since the day when all three marched in procession toward Mr. Meggison's window how long ago it seemed! The big heart of the lion tamer was easily moved to pity, and pity was akin to love. Oh, yes, everything would come right! warbled the disobedient spirit singing on the heights.
Despite lack of sleep and a tiredness of body that Sunday could not cure, Win had never looked more attractive than when, at precisely twelve forty-five on Monday afternoon she presented herself at Mr. Meggison's door. This was his private den, and a visit there, even on a less alarming errand than hers, was far more formidable than pausing for inspection at an office window.
Meggison, and wondered again and again whether she would be discharged or whether he had merely "taken a fancy" to her looks and wished to see if she were flirtatiously inclined. She knew now, from Sadie, that Meggison's desire was to be a "gay dog," though his courage did not always march with his ambition.
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