" Marian knew that
Segur was half in jest and was fond of Howard. But she couldn't endure
hearing him criticised.
"No. I think he succeeds because he works, pushes straight on, never stops
to repair blunders but never makes the same kind of a blunder the second
time."
Segur's eye caught an item that suggested an editorial paragraph. He sat at
Howard's desk, thought a moment, scrawled half a dozen lines in a large
ragged hand on a sheet of ruled yellow paper, and pressed an electric
button. The boy came, handed him another thick bundle of proofs, took the
"copy" and withdrew. Just then Howard returned.
"We'll go down to the news-room," he said.
The windows of the great news-room were thrown wide. Scores of electric
lights made it bright. At the various desks or in the aisles were perhaps
fifty men, most of them young, none of them beyond middle age. They were in
every kind of clothing from the most fashionable summer attire to an old
pair of cheap and stained duck trousers, collarless negligee shirt open all
the way down the front and suspenders hanging about the hips.
Some were writing long-hand; others were pounding away at the typewriter;
others were talking in undertones to "typists" taking dictation to the
machine; others were reading "copy" and altering it with huge blue pencils
which made apparently unreadable smears wherever they touched the paper.
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