If
it coagulates in the system, it can cause a lot of mischief."
Just what did he mean?
"Yes, a devil of a lot of mischief," he went on. "But the trouble
is, Missy, we haven't got any job on politics or--or the cosmos open
just now. But--"
He paused, gazing over her head. Missy felt her heart pause, too.
"Oh, anykind of a writing job," she proffered quaveringly.
"I can't think of anything here that's not taken care of, except"--
his glance fell on the ornate-looking "society page" of the Macon
City Sunday Journal, spread out on his desk--"a society column."
In her swift breath of ecstasy Missy forgot to note the twinkle in
his eye.
"Oh, I'd love to write society things!" Ed Martin sat regarding her
with a strange expression on his face.
"Well," he said at last, as if to himself, "why not?" Then,
addressing her directly: "You may consider yourself appointed
official Society Editor of the Cherryvale Beacon."
The title rolled with surpassing resonance on enchanted ears. She
barely caught his next remark.
"And now about the matter of salary--"
Salary! Missy straightened up.
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