Michael Fenger, Super-Manager, listened to the plan, smiled
tolerantly, and went on perfecting an already miraculous
System. Sarah Sapinsky, at seven a week, was just so much
untrained labor material, easily replaced by material
exactly like it. No, Michael Fenger, with his head in the
sand, heard no talk of new gods. He only knew that the
monster plant under his management was yielding the
greatest possible profit under the least possible outlay.
In Fanny Brandeis he had found a stimulating, energizing
fellow worker. That had been from the beginning. In the
first month or two of her work, when her keen brain was
darting here and there, into forgotten and neglected
corners, ferreting out dusty scraps of business waste and
holding them up to the light, disdainfully, Fenger had
watched her with a mingling of amusement and a sort of fond
pride, as one would a precocious child. As the months went
on the pride and amusement welded into something more than
admiration, such as one expert feels for a fellow-craftsman.
Long before the end of the first year he knew that here was
a woman such as he had dreamed of all his life and never
hoped to find.
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