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 she felt, without knowing it, for she would not look about, that he was watching her. He usually gave her that sensation, which she acknowledged by pulling down her skirt every few minutes. Occasionally smoke rings floated by her, aimed at her head; and when a cigarette burned out, he struck matches loudly.

While she was totaling the last entries of the new schedule and the sheets of it were spread over the desk, he arose and bent over her. Swiftly she covered her figures with a blank paper and she twisted around to him, whereat he patted her shoulder and laughed.

"You're not showing secrets," he told her. "Think I don't know all that?"

"What?"

"How you're losing business. Do you suppose the Slengels never see me? What'd you think I supposed the Slengels were operating on? Air?"

"We're doing very well," Ellen denied, loyally. "Volume isn't everything."

"Not while you have one old faithful account which carries you by itself," he agreed with her, coolly; and Ellen started at the suggestion of threat. Lose my account, now, and see where you are, was what he implied.

"I'm taking over, down at Stanley, on New Year's; did y'hear?" he asked.

"No."

"Yes. The grand old man retires."

"Oh!"

"Don't you like it?" he asked, his hand resting on her shoulder.

"Why," Ellen denied, "I've no feeling about it."