Would she have spoken in that way to--to Victor Carver, for instance?
Hardly.

She was just what I had thought her at first, a feminine edition of Victor, with more brains than he possessed.
Captain Jed Dean came into the bank the third day after my installation as bookkeeper and teller.

I was alone in the director's room, going over some papers, and he entered and shook hands with me.

The old fellow professed delight at my presence there.
"George tells me you're takin' hold fust-rate," he said.

"That's good.
I'm glad to hear it." "Why ?" I asked.