She was twisting the
fingers of one hand in the fingers of the other, in a
frightened sort of way.
"I'm not really a business woman. I--wait a minute,
please--I have a knack of knowing what people are thinking
and wanting. But that isn't business."
"It isn't, eh? It's the finest kind of business sense.
It's the thing the bugs call psychology, and it's as
necessary to-day as capital was yesterday. You can get
along without the last. You can't without the first. One
can be acquired. The other you've got to be born with."
"But I--you know, of late, it's only the human side of it
that has appealed to me. I don't know why. I seem to have
lost interest in the actual mechanics of it."
Fenger stood looking at her, his head lowered. A scarlet
stripe, that she had never noticed before, seemed to stand
out suddenly, like a welt, on his forehead. Then he came
toward her. She raised her hand in a little futile gesture.
She took an involuntary step backward, encountered the chair
she had just left, and sank into it coweringly.
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