She had taken such delight in their mutual dignity. On
the filing cabinet beside her typewriter desk was a pink geranium
in a pot, which she watered every morning. He could not resist
pulling out a drawer of her desk, and smiled gently to see the
careful neatness of its compartments, with all her odds and ends
usefully arranged. The ink-eraser, with an absurd little whisk
attached to it for brushing away fragments of rubbed paper; the
fascicle of sharpened pencils held together by an elastic band;
the tiny phial of typewriter oil; a small box of peppermints; a
crumpled handkerchief; the stenographic notebook with a pencil
inserted at the blank page, so as to be ready for instant service
the next day; the long paper-cutter for slitting envelopes; her
memorandum pad, on which was written Remind Mr. G. of Window
Display Luncheon--it seemed cruel to deprive her of all these
innocent amusements in which she delighted so much. And yet he
could not go on as a General Manager simply for the happiness of
Miss Whippet.
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