Gunning approached the
counter. He was twirling his mustache with his coarse, blunt fingers,
and there was a superciliousness in his manner that was almost
disgusting.
"Perhaps you are not aware, Number 411, that we don't allow that sort of
thing here," he said in a loud tone. "If you must have such improper
notes from men, please see that they are not delivered during business
hours. I can't have you wasting time in reading letters!"
For a moment the floor seemed sinking beneath Faith's feet, but it was
not altogether from the effect of his words--it was the shock of finding
out that Miss Jones was treacherous.
For a moment it seemed incomprehensible that she should have repeated
her remark, but how else could the floor-walker have guessed that her
letter was either from a "man" or "improper"?
She almost bit her tongue in her effort to keep silent, and at first she
was even tempted to show the fellow the letter.
"It was not my fault that the letter came to me here," she said finally.
"Believe me, Mr. Gunning, it would not have happened if I could have
prevented it."
"Oh, of course, you can't help men writing love letters to you," said
the fellow, impudently; "but if I see any more of them I shall report it
to Mr.
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