On his part as
well as yours. What have I to do with John Culver's waitresses?"
He wasn't expecting an answer to this question, but Rose had one ready
for him.
"You've given him the idea, without meaning to most likely, that you
wouldn't tolerate a girl among them who'd been earning her living on the
stage. If that's just a stupid mistake of his, I'm asking you to tell
him so."
"Well, I won't," said the judge. "The thing's preposterous. You're
asking me for what amounts to a guarantee. In the first place, I don't
know that you're not--after all--what you say you convinced Culver that
you were not."
"I think you do," said Rose thoughtfully, with a steady look he angrily
turned away from. "I think you knew, without any reason at all, just
from your instinct and your experience in judging people. And if you
don't know it that way, I think you can prove it to yourself by common
sense. Do you think it likely that if a girl of my--appearance
and--manners, had a mind to practise the--profession you've talked
about, she would be here in Centropolis, fighting desperately like this,
going through humiliations like this, for a chance to be a waitress in
Mr.
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