But he only sees people by appointment--especially ladies," the little man added, with a half-smile which had more significance in it than Elfrida could bear.

Her face set itself against the anger that burned up in her, and she walked quickly from the door to the desk, her wet skirts swishing with her steps.
She looked straight at the man, and began to speak in a voice of constraint and authority.
"You will be kind enough to get up," she said, "and listen to what I have to say." The man got up instantly.
"I came here," she went on, "to offer your editor an article--this article;" she drew out the manuscript and laid it before him.

"I thought from the character of the contributions to last week's number of the _Consul_ that he might very well be glad of it." Her tone reduced the man to silence.

Mechanically he picked up the manuscript and fingered the leaves.
"Read the first few sentences, please," said Elfrida.
"I've nothing to do with that department, miss--" "I have no intention whatever of leaving it with you.
But I shall be obliged if you will read the first few sentences." He read them, the girl standing watching him.
"Now," said she, "do you understand ?" She took the pages from his hand and returned them to the envelope.
"Yes, miss--it's certainly interesting, but--" "Be quite sure you understand," said Elfrida, as the ground-glass door closed behind her.
Before she reached the foot of the staircase she was in a passion of tears.

She leaned, against the wall in the half darkness of the passage, shaking with sobs, raging with anger and pity, struggling against her own contempt.
Gradually she gained a hold upon herself, and as she dried her eyes finally she lost all feeling but a heavy sense of failure.