"And
to-day--to-day, at last, I am free to go to work as I like. I don't
believe Dr. Burns has sent out a bill for three months. He would go
bankrupt before he would tell a man what he owed him."
"Do you like sending out bills so well as that?" Ellen asked,
incredulous.
"I like anything that means being at work again, without having to play
that I'm a lady of leisure at any moment that anybody wants my company.
I like to have things methodical and systematic. I don't even mind
sending out bills, when I know they should be sent."
She stirred about the office, getting out her typewriter and oiling it,
while the two talked of various things. Her whole manner was consistent
with her words: she seemed to be full of the very joy of living. It
occurred to Ellen once to wonder if, by any possibility, this could be
the result of expectation of future continuance of her friendship with
Leaver. But something happened presently which, though but a simple
incident enough, and all in the day's routine, made any such supposition
seem most unlikely.
The telephone bell rang. Ellen saw Amy's face change at the first sound
of her questioner's voice, with that subtle change which sometimes tells
more than the person engaged in this form of communication realizes.
"Yes, Dr. Burns," she said. "Yes ... Yes .
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