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He seized his pen and carried it through. Belle, attended by her father, was not in the least abashed by the elegance of Mr. Schriven's parlor, as he had rather hoped she would be, but he was much impressed by Mr. Jocelyn's fine appearance and courtly bearing. "No wonder the girl's course has been peculiar," he thought. "She comes from no common stock.
Schriven's visitor maliciously; "I see you are to be interviewed." "Very briefly, I assure you. Good-morning. Now, miss, I give you about one minute to transact your business with me, then the cashier will pay you for two days' work." "No, sir, he will not. Do you think I'd take money stained with blood?" "What do you mean? What kind of a girl are you anyway?"
Very little later the foreman of the shop on Sixth Avenue was astonished to see her passing hastily toward the private office, regardless of the looks of surprise and interest turned toward her on every side, for the events of the night had been very generally whispered around. "Mr. Schriven's engaged," he said sharply. "What do you want? Why are you not in your place?"
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