really there: you are waiting--like Penelope when
she did her weaving." He could not help a spurt of wickedness. "I'll
call you Penelope," he said.

"Would it make any difference?" she said, carefully removing one of her
needles.

"That doesn't matter, so long as it pleases me. Here, I say, you seem to
forget I'm your boss. It just occurs to me."

"And what does that mean?" she asked coolly.

"It means I've got a right to boss you."

"Is there anything you want to complain about?"

"Oh, I say, you needn't be nasty," he said angrily.

"I don't know what you want," she said, continuing her task.

"I want you to treat me nicely and respectfully."

"Call you 'sir', perhaps?" she asked quietly.

"Yes, call me 'sir'. I should love it."

"Then I wish you would go upstairs, sir."

His mouth closed, and a frown came on his face. He jumped suddenly down.

"You're too blessed superior for anything," he said.

And he went away to the other girls. He felt he was being angrier than
he had any need to be. In fact, he doubted slightly that he was showing
off. But if he were, then he would. Clara heard him laughing, in a way
she hated, with the girls down the next room.

When at evening he went through the department after the girls had gone,
he saw his chocolates lying untouched in front of Clara's machine. He
left them. In the morning they were still there, and Clara was at work.
Later on Minnie, a little brunette they called Pussy, called to him:

"Hey, haven't you got a chocolate for anybody?"

"Sorry, Pussy," he replied. "I meant to have offered them; then I went
and forgot 'em."

"I think you did," she answered.

"I'll bring you some this afternoon. You don't want them after they've
been lying about, do you?"

"Oh, I'm not particular," smiled Pussy.

"Oh no," he said. "They'll be dusty."

He went up to Clara's bench.

"Sorry I left these things littering about," he said.

She flushed scarlet. He gathered them together in his fist.

"They'll be dirty now," he said. "You should have taken them. I wonder
why you didn't. I meant to have told you I wanted you to."

He flung them out of the window into the yard below. He just glanced at
her. She winced from his eyes.

In the afternoon he brought another packet.

"Will you take some?" he said, offering them first to Clara. "These are
fresh."

She accepted one, and put it on to the bench.

"Oh, take several--for luck," he said.

She took a couple mo