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Updated: June 24, 2025
"I never get time to read. There's enough fiction, and romance, and adventure in my job to give me all the thrill I want. Why, just last Tuesday no, Thursday it was down at the works " Between Fanny and Fenger there flashed a look made up of dismay, and amusement, and secret sympathy. It was a look that said, "We both see the humor of this. Most people wouldn't. Our angle is the same."
I don't want to see a restaurant or a rose silk shade for weeks." Fenger tapped the little pile of papers on his desk. "I've read your reports. If you can do that on lunches, I'd like to see what you could put over in a series of dinners." "Heaven forbid," said Fanny, fervently. Then, for a very concentrated fifteen minutes they went over the reports together.
Fenger sat down. He was under great excitement, though he was quite controlled. Fanny, knowing him, waited quietly. His eyes held hers. "It's come," Fenger began. "You know that for the last year Haynes has been milling around with a herd of sociologists, philanthropists, and students of economics.
The Power House, Fanny called it. Fenger was facing the door. "Missed you," he said. "You must have," Fanny laughed, "with only nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine to look after." "You look as if you'd been on a vacation, instead of a test trip." "So I have. Why didn't you warn me that business, as transacted in New York, is a series of social rites?
Then we'll all know just where we stand. Mr. Fenger will be on next week to arrange the details, but just now a very brief written understanding to show him on my return would do." And she got it, and tucked it away in her bag, in triumph. She tried to leave New York without talking to Heyl, but some quiet, insistent force impelled her to act contrary to her resolution.
"You're a queer child," interrupted Fenger. "As wooden as an Indian while talking about a million-a-year deal, and lyrical over a combination of electric sign, sunset, and moth-eaten park. Oh, well, perhaps that's what makes you as you are." Even Ella looked a little startled at that. They had tea at Claremont, at a table overlooking the river and the Palisades.
The report presented to Fenger was this: Time and energy saved, fifty-five per cent; stock staff decreased by one third. The picturesqueness of it, the almost ludicrous simplicity of the idea appealed to the entire plant. It tickled the humor sense in every one of the ten thousand employees in that vast organization.
Fanny's enthusiasm and superb confidence in Theodore's genius infected Fenger, Fascinating Facts, even Nathan Haynes himself. Nathan Haynes had never posed as a patron of the arts, in spite of his fantastic millions. But by the middle of September there were few of his friends, or his wife's friends, who had not heard of this Theodore Brandeis.
It's rude, and it's disconcerting," which was putting it forthrightly. "I beg your pardon!" Fenger came swiftly around the desk, and over to her. "I was thinking very hard. Miss Brandeis, will you dine with me somewhere tonight? Then to-morrow night? But I want to talk to you." "Here I am. Talk." "But I want to talk to you." It was then that Fanny Brandeis saved an ugly situation.
"Now for the talk," said Fenger. But the telephone had sounded shrilly a moment before, and the omnipresent little Jap summoned Fenger. He was back in a minute, frowning. "It's Haynes. I'm sorry. I'm afraid it'll take a half hour of telephoning. Don't you want to take a cat-nap? Or a stroll down to the lake?" "Don't bother about me. I'll probably take a run outdoors." "Be back in half an hour."
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