"
"Well, by God!" said the proprietor. "You've got your nerve with you at
any rate. But I'll tell you, young woman, the town of Centropolis don't
take kindly to the efforts of young women of your sort to make a living
nor to the way they make it."
"You're wrong," said Rose, dangerously quiet, "if you think I mean to
make a living in any other than a decent honest way. I have already
asked for work in five places on Main Street and I have been refused as
if I were the--sort of person you've just called me. I'm going to keep
on until I find somebody in this town who's clean enough minded to
recognize decency when he sees it. There are people like that, of
course, even in Centropolis. I didn't come in here to borrow money of
you, nor to ask for credit. I came to ask for a job as a waitress."
The proprietor stared at her. "Well," he said, "you are a new one on
John Culver. I never got up against _your_ game before."
"I haven't any game," said Rose. "I've told you the exact truth."
Culver twisted around uneasily in his chair and began biting
thoughtfully on the end of a lead-pencil.
Pages:
787
788
789
790
791
792
793
794
795
796
797
798
799
800
801
802
803
804
805
806
807
808
809
810
811