Page:Elizabeth Jordan--Tales of the city room.djvu/119

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Mrs. Ogilvie's Local Color

go home to John. We 're so far up in Harlem that it does n't seem worth while to come downtown in the evening to the theatre or anything of that kind, and so we stay at home—and I suppose we stagnate. My husband, you know, is not strong, and I have to be very careful of him. I don't regret our quiet life—we 're very happy. But I sometimes think I should go about more and broaden and develop my mind, for the sake of my work."

Her voice lingered fondly on the last two words. She was plainly fascinated by her brief newspaper experience, and Miss Herrick saw and marvelled over this, just as she had marvelled six months before when the ill-prepared novice had taken her first plunge into the journalistic whirlpool. Never had such a gay, inexperienced, unsophisticated little woman come into the office. Bets were freely offered that she would leave before the end of the week—an impression which the city editor fully shared until Thursday morning, when she had brought him a news "tip" that made him take his feet off his desk and show other signs of joyful professional interest.

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