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Now I've got to hunt a hallroom and begin scratching gravel." "But at least until you find a position." "No. I'm sure of something first pop, if old Grif is in town. You remember, I once told you all about him M. F. Griffith, my old engineer man who boosted me from a bum to a transitman. Whitest man that ever was! Last I heard, he'd located here in Chicago as a consulting engineer.
I scarcely could have thought that of him," dropping into a chair by the toilet-table and hiding her face in her hands. "It is not like Grif to let me humble myself for nothing. And I did humble myself, ah, how I did humble myself! That letter, if you could have seen it, Aimée, it was all on fire with love for him. I laid myself under his feet, and he has trodden me down!
But, impatient as she was to be gone, Dolly could not forget Mollie's interest. It was too near her heart to be forgotten. She must attend to Mollie's affairs first, and then she could fly to Grif and the parlor with an easy conscience.
After that I never dreamed you'd accept any position as Assistant." "Well, I like to please Grif," was Blake's easy reply. "He's been worrying because office work uses me up. Nothing suits me better than an outdoor job, and I happened to take a fancy to your bridge the other time I came. It's a good deal like those plans of mine that got mislaid. Of course you can't know that."
"Don't say anything to her about Grif," Dolly cautioned Aimée, "it would only trouble her." And so the morning passed; but even at twelve o'clock there was no Grif, and Dolly began to grow restless and walk to and fro from the window to the hearth at very short intervals.
There is only one flaw, and that will disappear with the one cutting required to bring the stone to the best possible shape." "Stow it!" ordered Blake. The rattling of the doorknob drew his gaze about. "Here's Grif, back at last. He's been to chin with Papa Leslie."
The feverish strength seemed to come once more. Dolly would be propped up, and talk. Before very long Aimée began to fancy that she had something she wished to say to Miss Mac-Dowlas. She followed her movements with eager, unsatisfied eyes, and did not seem at ease until she sat down near her. Then when she had secured her attention the secret revealed itself. She had something to say about Grif.
It was just as she had always said it would be, without Grif, Dolly was Dolly no longer, for Grif's sake her faithful, passionate girl's heart was breaking slowly.
It was Grif indeed; for as she neared the place where he stood, she saw his face in the lamp-light, a grief-worn, pallid face, changed and haggard and desperate, a sight that made her cry out aloud. He had not seen her or even heard her. He stood there looking toward the house she had left, and seeing, as it seemed, nothing else. Only the darkness had hidden her from him.
Why, if only I'd known in time that they were lost, I'd have put in my scratch drawings and won on them. I tell you, Grif, that truss was something new." "Oh, no, there's no inventiveness, no brains in your head, oh, no!" rallied Griffith. "Wait till you make good on this Zariba Dam." "You just bet I'll make a stagger at it!" cried Blake.
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