[Sally Bishop by E. Temple Thurston]@TWC D-Link bookSally Bishop CHAPTER I 4/14
Then, a minute later, the main door of the house would open, the figure of a man emerge; for a moment he would turn his face up to the sky, then the umbrella would go up and he would walk away into the darkness of the street, for one brief moment an individual with an identity; the next, a mere unit in the great herd of human beings. There were many departures such as these before, at last, the clerks rose from their chairs.
When finally they did move, it was with a lethargy that almost concealed the relief which the cessation of work had brought them.
One might have expected to see the slamming of books and the rushing for hats like children released from school.
But there was no such energy of delight as that.
Ledgers were closed wearily, as though they were weighted with leaden covers; papers were put in tiny heaps as if they were a pile of death-warrants. Typewriters were covered with such slowness and such care that one might think they were delicate instruments of music with silver strings, instead of treadmills for tired hands. Some reason must explain why these young men and girls, when their superiors took their departure, showed so plainly the envy that they felt and now are apparently unmoved by the prospect of their own freedom.
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