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Nicholson, Meredith, 1866-1947

"A Hoosier Chronicle"

She swung round quickly with
an air of surprise, stretched herself, and yawned.
"Well, I wasn't exactly looking for you, but I can't deny that I'm glad
to be interrupted. Hope you don't mind my doing a small job on the
side--"
As Harwood stood, suit-case in hand, blinking at her, he heard a door
farther down the hall close, followed by a step in the hall outside.
Harwood had seen no lights in the neighboring offices as he crossed the
hall, and in his frequent long night vigils with his law books, it was
the rarest thing to find any of the neighboring tenants about. He turned
quickly to the door while the retreating steps were still audible.
"Oh!"
Rose had half-risen from her seat as he put his hand to the knob and her
tone of alarm arrested him. Instead of flinging open the door he dropped
his bag into a corner. His face flushed with sudden anger.
"I didn't suppose you'd mind my doing a little extra work out of hours,
Mr. Harwood. Colonel Ramsay was in the office to see Mr. Bassett this
afternoon and asked me to take some dictation for him. I guess it's
about time for me to go home."
She pulled the sheet of paper from the typewriter with a sharp _brrrrr_
and dropped it into a drawer with a single deft twist of the wrist.
"The Colonel didn't mention it to me," remarked Dan, feigning
indifference and not looking at her.


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