第10章TheRomanceofaBusyBroker

第10章theromanceofabusybroker

pitcher,confidentialclerkintheofficeofharveymaxwell,bro-ker,allowedalookofmildinterestandsurprisetovisithisusuallyexpressionlesscountenancewhenhisemployerbrisklyenteredathalfpastnineincompanywithhisyoungladystenographer.withasnappy"goodmorning,pitcher,"maxwelldashedathisdeskasthoughhewereintendingtoleapoverit,andthenplungedintothegreatheapoflettersandtelegramswaitingthereforhim.

theyoungladyhadbeenmaxwell'sstenographerforayear.shewasbeautifulinawaythatwasdecidedlyunstenographic.sheforewentthepompofthealluringpompadour.sheworenochains,braceletsorlockets.shehadnottheairofbeingabouttoacceptaninvitationtoluncheon.herdresswasgreyandplain,butitfittedherfigurewithfidelityanddiscretion.inherneatblackturbanhatwasthegold-greenwingofamacaw.onthismorningshewassoftlyandshylyradiant.hereyesweredreamilybright,hercheeksgenuinepeachblow,herexpressionahappyone,tingedwithreminiscence.

pitcher,stillmildlycurious,noticedadifferenceinherwaysthismorning.insteadofgoingstraightintotheadjoiningroom,whereherdeskwas,shelingered,slightlyirresolute,intheouteroffice.onceshemovedoverbymaxwell'sdesk,nearenoughforhimtobeawareofherpresence.

themachinesittingatthatdeskwasnolongeraman;itwasabusynewyorkbroker,movedbybuzzingwheelsanduncoilingsprings.

"well—whatisit?anything?"askedmaxwellsharply.hisopenedmaillaylikeabankofstagesnowonhiscrowdeddesk.hiskeengreyeye,impersonalandbrusque,flasheduponherhalfimpatiently.

"nothing,"answeredthestenographer,movingawaywithalittlesmile.

"mr.pitcher,"shesaidtotheconfidentialclerk,"didmr.maxwellsayanythingyesterdayaboutengaginganotherstenographer?"

"hedid,"answeredpitcher."hetoldmetogetanotherone.inotifiedtheagencyyesterdayafternoontosendoverafewsamplesthismorning.it's9:45o'clock,andnotasinglepicturehatorpieceofpineapplechewinggumhasshowedupyet."

"iwilldotheworkasusual,then,"saidtheyounglady,"untilsomeonecomestofilltheplace."andshewenttoherdeskatonceandhungtheblackturbanhatwiththegold-greenmacawwinginitsaccustomedplace.

hewhohasbeendeniedthespectacleofabusymanhattanbrokerduringarushofbusinessishandicappedfortheprofessionofanthropology.thepoetsingsofthe"crowdedhourofgloriouslife."thebroker'shourisnotonlycrowded,buttheminutesandsecondsarehangingtoallthestrapsandpackingbothfrontandrearplatforms.

andthisdaywasharveymaxwell'sbusyday.thetickerbegantoreeloutjerkilyitsfitfulcoilsoftape;thedesktelephonehadachronicattackofbuzzing.menbegantothrongintotheofficeandcallathimovertherailing,jovially,sharply,viciously,excitedly.messengerboysraninandoutwithmessagesandtelegrams.theclerksintheofficejumpedaboutlikesailorsduringastorm.evenpitcher'sfacerelaxedintosomethingresemblinganimation.

ontheexchangetherewerehurricanesandlandslidesandsnowstormsandglaciersandvolcanoes,andthoseelementaldisturbanceswerereproducedinminiatureinthebroker'soffices.maxwellshovedhischairagainstthewallandtransactedbusinessafterthemannerofatoedancer.hejumpedfromtickertophone,fromdesktodoorwiththetrainedagilityofaharlequin.

inthemidstofthisgrowingandimportantstressthebrokerbecamesuddenlyawareofahigh-rolledfringeofgoldenhairunderanoddingcanopyofvelvetandostrichtips,animitationsealskinsacqueandastringofbeadsaslargeashickorynuts,endingnearthefloorwithasilverheart.therewasaself-possessedyoungladyconnectedwiththeseaccessories;andpitcherwastheretoconstrueher.

"ladyfromthestenographer'sagencytoseeabouttheposition,"saidpitcher.

maxwellturnedhalfaround,withhishandsfullofpapersandtickertape.

"whatposition?"heasked,withafrown.

"positionofstenographer,"saidpitcher."youtoldmeyesterdaytocallthemupandhaveonesentoverthismorning."

"youarelosingyourmind,pitcher,"saidmaxwell."whyshouldihavegivenyouanysuchinstructions?misslesliehasgivenperfectsatisfactionduringtheyearshehasbeenhere.theplaceishersaslongasshechoosestoretainit.there'snoplaceopenhere,madam.countermandthatorderwiththeagency,pitcher,anddon'tbringanymoreof'eminhere."

thesilverheartlefttheoffice,swingingandbangingitselfindependentlyagainsttheofficefurnitureasitindignantlydeparted.pitcherseizedamomenttoremarktothebookkeeperthatthe"oldman"seemedtogetmoreabsent-mindedandforgetfuleverydayoftheworld.

therushandpaceofbusinessgrewfiercerandfaster.onthefloortheywerepoundinghalfadozenstocksinwhichmaxwell'scustomerswereheavyinvestors.orderstobuyandsellwerecomingandgoingasswiftastheflightofswallows.someofhisownholdingswereimperiled,andthemanwasworkinglikesomehigh-geared,delicate,strongmachine—strungtofulltension,goingatfullspeed,accurate,neverhesitating,withtheproperwordanddecisionandactreadyandpromptasclockwork.stocksandbonds,loansandmortgages,marginsandsecurities—herewasaworldoffinance,andtherewasnoroominitforthehumanworldortheworldofnature.

whentheluncheonhourdrewneartherecameaslightlullintheuproar.

maxwellstoodbyhisdeskwithhishandsfulloftelegramsandmemoranda,withafountainpenoverhisrightearandhishairhangingindisorderlystringsoverhisforehead.hiswindowwasopen,forthebelovedjanitressspringhadturnedonalittlewarmththroughthewakingregistersoftheearth.

andthroughthewindowcameawandering—perhapsalost—odour—adelicate,sweetodouroflilacthatfixedthebrokerforamomentimmovable.forthisodourbelongedtomissleslie;itwasherown,andhersonly.

theodourbroughthervividly,almosttangiblybeforehim.theworldoffinancedwindledsuddenlytoaspeck.andshewasinthenextroom—twentystepsaway.

"bygeorge,i'lldoitnow,"saidmaxwell,halfaloud."i'llaskhernow.iwonderididn'tdoitlongago."

hedashedintotheinnerofficewiththehasteofashorttryingtocover.hechargeduponthedeskofthestenographer.

shelookedupathimwithasmile.asoftpinkcreptoverhercheek,andhereyeswerekindandfrank.maxwellleanedoneelbowonherdesk.hestillclutchedflutteringpaperswithbothhandsandthepenwasabovehisear.

"missleslie,"hebeganhurriedly,"ihavebutamomenttospare.iwanttosaysomethinginthatmoment.willyoubemywife?ihaven'thadtimetomakelovetoyouintheordinaryway,butireallydoloveyou.talkquick,please—thosefellowsareclubbingthestuffingoutofunionpacific."

"oh,whatareyoutalkingabout?"exclaimedtheyounglady.sherosetoherfeetandgazeduponhim,round-eyed.

"don'tyouunderstand?"saidmaxwell,restively."iwantyoutomarryme.iloveyou,missleslie.iwantedtotellyou,andisnatchedaminutewhenthingshadslackenedupabit.they'recallingmeforthephonenow.tell'emtowaitaminute,pitcher.won'tyou,missleslie?"

thestenographeractedveryqueerly.atfirstsheseemedovercomewithamazement;thentearsflowedfromherwonderingeyes;andthenshesmiledsunnilythroughthem,andoneofherarmsslidtenderlyaboutthebroker'sneck.

"iknownow,"shesaid,softly."it'sthisoldbusinessthathasdriveneverythingelseoutofyourheadforthetime.iwasfrightenedatfirst.don'tyouremember,harvey?weweremarriedlasteveningat8o'clockinthelittlechurcharoundthecorner."