"
"Society editor!--you? For Pete's sake!"
At first Missy took his tone to denote surprised admiration, and her
little thrill of pride intensified.
But he went on:
"What on earth are you wasting time on things like that for?"
"Wasting time--?" she repeated. Her voice wavered a little.
"I'd never have suspected you of being a highbrow," Mr. Briggs
continued.
Missy felt a surge akin to indignation--he didn't seem to appreciate
her importance, after all. But resentment swiftly gave way to a kind
of alarm: why didn't he appreciate it?
"Don't you like highbrows?" she asked, trying to smile.
"Oh, I suppose they're all right in their place," said Mr. Briggs
lightly. "But I never dreamed you were a highbrow."
It was impossible not to gather that this poised young man of the
world esteemed her more highly in his first conception of her.
Impelled by the eternal feminine instinct to catch at possibly
flattering personalities, Missy asked:
"What did you think I was?" "Well," replied Mr. Briggs, smiling, "I
thought you were a mighty pretty girl--the prettiest I've seen in
this town.
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