snap judgment based on first impressions, ushered
a man or a woman into a place where weakness or malice could do
incalculable harm. In every institution, as in every structure, these
danger-spots exist. Davidge, for all his care and knowledge of people,
could only take the best he could get.

Jake Nuddle had got past the sentry-line with ludicrous ease and had
contrived already the ruin of one ship. His program, which included
all the others, had had a little setback, but he could easily regain
his lost ground, for the mob had vented its rage against him and was
appeased.

Mamise was inside the sentry-lines, too, both of Davidge's shop and
his heart. Her purposes were loyal, but she was drifting toward a
supreme stress that should try her inmost fiber. And at the moment she
felt an almost unbearable strain in the petty decision of whether to
go with the clerks or stop with the boss.

Mamise was not so much afraid of what the clerks would say of her. It
was Davidge that she was protecting. She did not want to have them
talking about him--as if anything could have stopped them from that!

While she debated between being unselfish enough to leave him
unconsoled and being selfish enough to stay, she spent so much time
that the outer office was empty, anyway.

Seeing herself alone, she made a quick motion toward the door. Miss
Gabus came out, stared violently, and said:

"Was you goin' in?"

"No--oh no!" said Mamise. "I left something in my desk."

She opened her desk, took out a pencil-nub and hurried away,
ostentatiously passing the other clerks as they struggled across the
yard to the gate.

She walked to her shanty and found it all pins and needles. She was so
desperate that she went to see her sister.

Marie Louise found Abbie in her kitchen, sewing buttons on the
extremely personal property of certain bachelors whom she washed for
in spite of Jake's high earnings--from which she benefited no more
than before. If Jake had come into a million, or shattered the world
to bits and then rebuilt it nearer to his heart's desire, he would not
have had enough to make much difference to Abbie. Mamise had made many
handsome presents to Abbie, but somehow they vanished, or at least got
Abbie no farther along the road to contentment or grace.

Mamise was full of the story of the disaster to the _Clara_. She drew
Abbie into the living-room away from the children, who were playing in
the kitchen because it was full of