Una found the office, on Duane Street, to consist of two real rooms and a bare anteroom decorated with photographs of the several White Line Hotels--set on maple-lined streets, with the local managers, in white waistcoats, standing proudly in front. She herself was to have a big flat-topped desk in the same room with Mr. Sidney. The surroundings were crude compared with the Truax & Fein office, but she was excited. Here she would be a pioneer. "Now come in the other room," said Mr. Sidney, "and meet the stenographers and the publicity man I was telling you about on the 'phone." He opened a door and said, "Mrs. Schwirtz, wantcha shake hands with the fellow that's going to help you to put the Line on the map--Mr. Babson." It was Walter Babson who had risen from a desk and was gaping at her. CHAPTER XXIII "But I did write to you, Goldie--once more, anyway--letter was returned to me after being forwarded all over New York," said Walter, striding about her flat. "And then you forgot me completely." "No, I didn't--but what if I had? You simply aren't the same girl I liked--you're a woman that can do things; and, honestly, you're an inspiration to me." Walter rubbed his jaw in the nervous way she remembered. "Well, I hope I shall inspire you to stick to the White Line and make good." "Nope, I'm going to make one more change. Gee! I can't go on working for you. The problem of any man working for a woman boss is hard enough. He's always wanting to give her advice and be superior, and yet he has to take her orders. And it's twice as hard when it's me working for you that I remember as a kid--even though you have climbed past me." "Well?" "Well, I'm going to work for you till I have a job where I can make good, and when I do--or if I do--I'm going to ask you to marry me." "But, my dear boy, I'm a business woman. I'm making good right now. In three months I've boosted White Line receipts seventeen per cent., and I'm not going back to minding the cat and the gas-stove and waiting--" "You don't need to. We can both work, keep our jobs, and have a real housekeeper--a crackajack maid at forty a month--to mind the cat." "But you seem to forget that I'm more or less married already." "So do you!... If I make good-- Listen: I guess it's time now to tell you my secret. I'm breaking into your old game, real estate. You know I've been turning out pretty good publicity for the White Line, besides all the traveling and inspecting, and we have managed to have a few good times, haven't we? But, also, on the side, I've been doing a whale of a lot of advertising, and so on, for the Nassau County Investment Company, and they've offered me a steady job at forty-five a week. And now that I've got you to work for, my _Wanderjahre_ are over. So, if I do make good, will you divorce that incubus of an Eddie Schwirtz and marry me? Will you?"