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Updated: May 16, 2025
On this particular afternoon Miss Thornton delayed Susan Brown, with a significant glance, when the whistle blew at half-past five, and the girls crowded about the little closet for their wraps. "S'listen, Susan," said she, with a look full of import. Susan leaned over Miss Thornton's flat-topped desk so that their heads were close together.
"Thorny, honest, I oughtn't to spend the money," Susan persisted. "S'listen, Susan." Miss Thornton spoke very low, after a cautious glance about her. "Swear you won't breathe this!" "Oh, honestly I won't!" "Wait a minute. Is Elsie Kirk there?" asked Miss Thornton. Susan glanced down the office. "Nope. She's upstairs, and Violet's in Brauer's office. What is it?" "Well, say, listen.
Lancaster's house with awed admiration on Christmas Day, but Susan could not forget that Peter had been out of town on both holidays, and that she had gained her only knowledge of his whereabouts from the newspapers. A handsome present had been more than enough to satisfy her wildest dreams, the year before. It was not enough now. "S'listen, Susan. You're engaged to him?"
One day, when a trio of exquisitely pretty girls came to carry him off bodily, at an early five o'clock, Miss Thornton came up the office to Susan's desk. Susan, who was quite openly watching the floor below, turned with a smile, and sat down in her place. "S'listen, Susan," said Miss Thornton, leaning on the desk, "are you going to the big game?" "I don't know," said Susan, suddenly wild to go.
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