She persisted, knowing what she would have to
suffer from herself if she failed.
"Mr. Curtis is in the country. I cannot possibly give
you his address. You can write to him here, and the letter
will be forwarded. But he only sees people by
appointment--especially ladies," the little man added,
with a half-smile which had more significance in it than
Elfrida could bear. Her face set itself against the anger
that burned up in her, and she walked quickly from the
door to the desk, her wet skirts swishing with her steps.
She looked straight at the man, and began to speak in a
voice of constraint and authority.
"You will be kind enough to get up," she said, "and listen
to what I have to say." The man got up instantly.
"I came here," she went on, "to offer your editor an
article--this article;" she drew out the manuscript and
laid it before him. "I thought from the character of the
contributions to last week's number of the _Consul_ that
he might very well be glad of it."
Her tone reduced the man to silence. Mechanically he
picked up the manuscript and fingered the leaves.
"Read the first few sentences, please," said Elfrida.
"I've nothing to do with that department, miss--"
"I have no intention whatever of leaving it with you.
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