And stenographers seemed
to be in demand. Wherefore, she reasoned that wages would be high.
With the list in her purse, she went down on Hastings--which runs like
a huge artery through the heart of the city, with lesser streets
crossing and diverging.
But she made no application for employment. For on the corner of
Hastings and Seymour, as she gathered her skirt in her hand to cross
the street, some one caught her by the arm, and cried:
"Well, forevermore, if it isn't Hazel Weir!"
And she turned to find herself facing Loraine Marsh--a Granville school
chum--and Loraine's mother. Back of them, with wide and startled eyes,
loomed Jack Barrow.
He pressed forward while the two women overwhelmed Hazel with a flood
of exclamations and questions, and extended his hand. Hazel accepted
the overture. She had long since gotten over her resentment against
him. She was furthermore amazed to find that she could meet his eye
and take his hand without a single flutter of her pulse. It seemed
strange, but she was glad of it. And, indeed, she was too much taken
up with Loraine Marsh's chatter, and too genuinely glad to hear a
friendly voice again, to dwell much on ghosts of the past.
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