CHAPTER XXX.
A few hours later, Mary was sitting in her office, thinking of this and that (as the old phrase goes) when a knock sounded on the door and the elderly accountant entered.
"We have finished the first part of our work," he said, "that dealing with factory costs.

I will leave this with you and when you have read it, I would like to go over it with you in detail." It was a formidable document, nearly three hundred typewritten pages, neatly bound in hard covers.

Mary hadn't looked in it far when she knew she was examining a work of art.
"How he must love his work!" she thought, and couldn't help wondering what accidental turn of life had guided his career into the field of figures.
"How interesting he makes it!" she thought again.

"Why, it's almost like a novel." Brilliant sentences illuminated nearly every page.

"This system, admirable in its way, is probably a legacy from the past, when the bookkeepers of Spencer & Son powdered their hair and used quill pens.--" "Under these conditions, a stock clerk must become a prodigy and depend upon his memory.