She sank listlessly into a chair at the table.  Jimmie, judging the moment favorable to renew the attack, opened his mouth as if to speak, but before he could utter a word Fanny silenced him.

“Oh, shut up!” she exclaimed, more forcibly than elegantly.

“I didn’t say anything,” he protested.

“No, but you were going to!” she retorted.  Turning to Virginia and pushing the tea-cup before her, she said coaxingly: 

“Take your tea, dear, before it gets cold.”

Jimmie was repulsed, but not beaten.  The prize was too important to permit of his accepting defeat so easily.  Rising from his seat, he said in a more conciliatory tone: 

“I was only going to say—­suppose he was to send for her—­or come for her?”

Virginia looked up with an expression of mingled surprise and alarm.  Almost anxiously she exclaimed: 

“Robert—­come for me!  There isn’t the slightest chance in the world.”

The clerk grinned knowingly.  With the self-important air of a man who enjoys the confidence of others, he said significantly: 

“I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you.”

“Why what do you know about it?” demanded Fanny in pretended surprise.

“He’s crazy in love with her—­that’s what I know,” he said.

Virginia shook her head despondently.

“Not enough to come for me,” she said.  “He said he would never do it—­and he never will.  That’s the kind of man he is.”

“Per—­perhaps” suggested Fanny, “just perhaps—­he might.”

“No,” murmured Virginia, “you don’t know him as well as I. Once he makes up his mind, no one can induce him to change it.”

“But if he should,” persisted Jimmie craftily, taking a seat near her and adopting a cordial, sympathetic tone.

“He won’t,” replied Virginia sadly.  “We’ll have to go along just as we are!  And we might be much worse off, don’t forget that.  Even as it is, we’re getting twenty dollars a week between us.  I’m getting seven and Jimmie’s getting thirteen—­”

“I was getting thirteen,” interrupted Jimmie ruefully.

Virginia looked at him.

“They’ve raised you?” she asked quickly.

“No.  They’ve fired me.”

“Discharged?”

“Yes.”

“Do you mean to say you have lost your job?”

“Of course I have.  How could you expect me to keep it?  Do you think I could work under a man getting thirty dollars a week—­me, who used to get a hundred and fifty?”

“Fired!” echoed Fanny, turning pale.  “Why—­what’s the matter?”

Jimmie assumed an injured air.  With nonchalance he explained: 

“Oh, I could see that lots of things were wrong with the system.  When I went to give the manager of the department the benefit of my advice and wide experience, instead of taking it and being thankful for it, he fired me—­fired me cold.  The bonehead!”