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Page 30
"May I?" Her friendly aloofness fell away from her as if touched by
magic. "I am an inveterate reader. Besides, I know several famous
editors, and perhaps I could help you."
"That would be jolly."
"And you are writing a story, and never told us about it!"
"It never occurred to me to tell you. I shall be very glad to go to
the theater with you and Mrs. Killigrew."
Kitty tucked the romance under her arm and flew to her room with it.
This Thomas was as full of surprises as a Christmas-box.
He eyed the empty doorway speculatively. He rather preferred the
friendly aloofness; otherwise some fatal nonsense might enter his head.
He resumed his chair and transferred his gaze to the blotter. He added
a few pothooks by the way: numerals in addition and subtraction (for he
was of Scotch descent), a name which he scratched out and scrawled
again and again scratched out. He examined the contents of his wallet.
How many pounds did a dress-suit cost in this hurly-burly country?
This question could be answered only in one way. He hastened out into
the hall, put on his hat, made for the subway, and got out directly
opposite the offices of Killigrew and Company, sugar, coffee and
spices. London-bred, it did not take him long to find his way about.
The racket disturbed him; that was all.
The building in which Killigrew and Company had its offices belonged to
Killigrew personally. It had cost him a round million to build, but
the office-rentals were making it a fine investment. These ornate
office-buildings caused Thomas to marvel unceasingly. In London
cubby-holes were sufficient. If merchants like Killigrew, generally
these were along the water-front; creaky, old, dim-windowed. In this
bewildering country a man conducted his business as from a palace. The
warehouses were distinct establishments.
Thomas entered the portals, stepped cautiously into one of the
express-elevators (so they insisted upon calling them here), and was
shot up to the fourteenth floor, all of which was occupied by Killigrew
and Company. It was Thomas' first venture in this district. And he
learned the amazing fact that it was ordinarily as easy to see Mr.
Killigrew as it was to see King George. Office-boys, minor clerks,
head clerks, managers; they quizzed and buffeted him hither and
thither. He never thought to state at the outset that he was Mrs.
Killigrew's private secretary; he merely said that it was very
important that he should see Mr. Killigrew at once.
"Mr. Killigrew is busy," he was informed by the assistant manager, at
whose desk Thomas finally arrived. "If you will give me your card I'll
have it sent in to him."
Thomas confessed that he had no card. The assistant manager grew
distinctly chilling.
"If you will be so kind as to inform Mr. Killigrew that Mr. Webb, Mrs.
Killigrew's private secretary . . ."
"Why didn't you say that at once, Mr. Webb? Here, boy; tell Mr.
Killigrew that Mr. Webb wishes to see him. You might just as well
follow the boy."
Killigrew was smoking, and perusing the baseball edition of his
favorite evening paper. All this red-tape to approach a man who wasn't
doing anything more vital than that! Thomas smiled. It was a
wonderful people.
"Why, hello, Webb! What's the matter? Anything wrong at the
house?"--anxiously.
"No, Mr. Killigrew. I came to see you on a personal matter."
Killigrew dropped the newspaper on his desk, a little frown between his
eyes. He made no inquiry.
"Miss Killigrew tells me that you will not be home this evening, and
that I am to take her and Mrs. Killigrew to the theater."
"Anything in the way to prevent you?" Killigrew appeared vastly
relieved for some reason.
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