several clues througnout the narrative prepare the reader for the wist at the end. The narrative strategically points at the “mil nterest” of Pitcher, Maxwell's confidential clerk, at the sight of his Doss's entrance with his secretary. The recurrence of the subject of 2 new secretary to be appointed, the mention of a special glow of happiness on Miss Leslie's face, the dreamy look of happy feminiscence are other clues hinting at a past event that connects hese incidents in the end. Her desire to linger ait in hs private room and the familiar routine of frantic commerce are actually in contrast to each other. It is interesting to note how the busy schedule of the day has swamped out the memories of last evening. Maxwell ~ the businessman, the stockbroker, has taken over Maxwell - the emotional man, the man who has just married the woman he loves. The story is not just about the busy schedule that makes the protagonist so amusing in his absentmindedness; the author also ries to imply that the hectic world of commerce leaves no space for private life within the office walls. Hence, the clerk asks no questions and Maxwell and Miss Leslie offer no explanation, The Romance of a Busy Broker Pitcher, confidential clerk in the office of Harvey Maxwell, broker, allowed a look of mild interest and surprise to visit his usually expressionless countenance when his employer briskly entered at half past nine in company with his you" lady stenographer. Witha snappy “Good-morning, Pitchet Maxwell dashed at his desk as though he were intending '° leap over it, and then plunged into the great heap of letter and telegrams waiting there for him. The young lady had been Maxwell's stenographer fF a year. She was beautiful in a way that was decided!Y unstenographic. She forewent the pomp of the alluring pompadour. She wore no chains, bracelets or lockets- she had not the air of Being about to accept an inviney. invitation to cheon. Her dress was gre tare with fidelity and coon a tt fitted her hat was the gold-green wing of a macaw, on me te she was softly and shyly radiant. Her eyes ye emi bright, her cheeks genuine peachblow. her or cami happy one, tinged with reminiscence. eeesioaa Fitcher, still mildly curious, noticed a difference inher ways this morning. Instead of going straight into the adjpning room, where her desk was, she lingered, slightly iresolute inthe outer office. Once she moved over by Maxwell's desk near enough for him to be aware of her presence. ‘Themachine sitting at that desk wasno longer a manyitwas, a busy New York broker, moved by buzzing wheels and uncoiling springs. ‘Well—what is it? Anything?” asked Maxwell sharply. His opened mail lay like a bank of stage snow on his crowded desk. His keen grey eye, impersonal and brusque fashed 'pon her half impatiently. “Nothing,” answered the stenographer, moving 2" alittle smile. ‘Mt Pitcher,” she said to the confidential a another well say anything, yesterday about eng! Stenographer?” to get another “He did.” answered Pitcher. “He told me OO oer one. [notified the agency yesterday er potas *W samples this morning, '59490¢ Picture hat or piece of pineapple ay with “Pyet” wing la “ ar gad the YOU to “Will do the work as usual, ther” Sr gpl she Wie place: wi heal! Some one comes to fill te urban hat erglesk at once and hung, the Pad pla green macaw wing in itpH Anthology of Prose and Drama 180 denied the spectacle of a busy Manha ve whos ee ush of business is handlicapped for = broker during“ ropology: The poet sings of the “crowdeg fession fae The broker's hour is not onl sys ife.” The br isnot only crowd hourofgloneres and seconds are hanging to all the straps but the mint front and rear platforms. ® s Harvey Maxwell's busy day. The tic And ths a out jessy its fitful coils of tape, he aa be pd cor attack of buzzing, Men began teens into the offce and call at him over the railing 2 raxapy viciously, excitedly. Messenger boys ran Jovied out with messages and telegrams. The clerks in 2 aavice jumped about like sailors during a storm, Even Pacher’s face relaxed into something resembling animation, On the Exchange there were hurricanes and landslides sha snowstorms and glaciers and volcanoes, and those ‘lemental disturbances were reproduced in miniature in the broker's offices. Maxwell shoved his chair against the wall, and transacted business after the manner of a toe dancer. He jumped from ticker to ‘phone, from desk to door with the trained agility of a harlequin. In the midst of this growing and important stress the broker became suddenly aware of a high-rolled fringe of golden hair under a nodding canopy of velvet and ostrich tips, an imitation sealskin sacque and a string of beads as large a hickory nuts, ending near the floor with a silver heart. There was a self-possessed young lady connected with these accessories; and Pitcher was there to construe her. “Lady from the Stenographer's Agency to see about the poston” said Pitcher gen Maxwell turned hal ith hi papers and tae if around, with his hands full of paP' “What position?” he asked, with a frown. ‘The Romance of «Busy Boker position of stenographer,” aj sears, to call them up ot ne rei sent over the you ate vies your mind, Pitcher,” Jd [have given you any su. : ooiven perfect satisfaction ing ts? Mis Leslie mae The place is hers as long as she chooses ras b= ‘re’s no place open here, madam. Countermesd ys Drier with the agency, Pitcher, and dont br orn in here. ing any more of the silver heart left the office, swinging and banging niependently against the office peral eee departed. Pitcher seized a moment to rematk'w the bookkeeper that the “old man” seemed to get more absent. mninded and forgetful every day of the world. ‘The rush and pace of business grew fiercer and faster. On the floor they were pounding half a dozen stocks in which Maxwell's customers were heavy investors. Orders to buy and sell were coming and going as swift as the fight of swallows. Some of his own holdings were imperilled, and the man was working like some high-geared, delicate, strong machine—strung to full tension, going at full speed, accurate, never hesitating, with the proper word and decision and act ready and prompt as clockwork. Stocks and bonds, loans and mortgages, margins and securities— here was a world of finance, and there was no room init for thehuman world or the world of nature. When the luncheon hour drew near there came a sight ll inthe uproar. Maxwell stood by his desk with his hands full of telegrams and memoranda, with a fountain pen over his ight 6 tis hair hanging in disorder strap Ot his fed is window was open, for the beloved janitress SP 6 tu was Oped aking registers of ned on a little warmth through the waking the earth. Said Maxwell “Why“nents Anthology of Prose and Drama dering — window came a wandering—pethaps the window er odour of lilac that fixed te inst—odout a della, cable. For this odour belonged broker or washer oven and hers only ‘odour brought her vividly, almost tangibly before him, Fae odo of finance dvvindled suddenly to a speck, Ang Fae or dhe next room_—twenty steps ava, v,"" sai ixwell, half aloud. 1" "By George, Tl do it now,” said Maxwell, al fe ‘sk her now. I wonder I didn't do it long ago. He dashed into the inner office with the haste ofa short to cover. He charged upon the desk of the stenographer. ‘She looked up at him with a smile. A soft pink crept over her cheek. and her eyes were kind and frank. Maxwell leaned ‘one elbow on her desk. He still clutched fluttering papers with both hands and the pen was above his ear. “Miss Leslie” he began hurriedly, “I have but a moment tospare.Iwantto say something in that moment. Wil you be my wife? I haven't had time to make love to you in the ordinary way, but I really do love you. Talk quick, please those fellows are clubbing the stuffing out of Union Pacific.” 18 ‘And through “Oh, what are you talking about?” exclaimed the young lady. She rose to her feet and gazed upon him, round-eyed, “Don't you understand?” said Maxwell, restively. “I want you to marry me. I love you, Miss Leslie. I wanted to tell You, and I snatched a minute when things had slackened up a bit. They're calling me for the ‘phone now. Tell ‘em to wait ‘a minute, Pitcher. Won't you, Miss Leslie?” The stenographer acted very queerly. At first she seemed overcome with amazement; then tears flowed from het wondering eyes; and then she smiled sunnily through them, and one of her arms slid tenderly about the broker's neck. “I know now,” she said, softly. “Its i a , softly. “It's this old business that has driven everything else out of your head for the time. I A OUSY Broker ened at first. Don't you i rem was harried last evening at 8 oiqgqy Bet: Harvey? We e Corner.” im the Little Church, 183 1 clerk: an office employee ent tal ployee entrusted with contdene mer one employed BY 2 member fim ofa stack votfuys and sells Stocks and other secure forces nO amps splendid display dour: a hairstyle, in which the hal atthe fr pa ontof the he porrashed uP aE a hat that looks lke a tur i turban hat: a hat that looks Hke a turban (a tutan is made kom a Tang piece of cloth whichis wrapped around thetopat here many times) mnecaw: a large Central and South American parrot with bight feathers and along tall. reminiscence: recollection brusque: abrupt; curt spectacle: an unusual or unexpected eventorstuationwhichattacs attention, interest or disapproval handicapped: placed ata disadvantage ticker: special machine printing information about stock market prices on narrow strips of paper harlequin: an amusing character ina traitional pantomime typical masked and dressed ina diamond costume. Secque:a jacket fastened at the neck construe: (here) explain her presence confide countermand: revoke imperiled: endangered ‘Waking registers: here) spring awakens the co tangibly: substantially real short: (here) a baseball player covering te 2 between the second and third base manttraces fife ca of the infield