Yet try
as he would he could not apply himself with any real concentration; and
the task called for concentration, all he could command.
"You are probably not used to working in the same room with a
typewriter," said his companion, quite unexpectedly, after a full half
hour of silence. She had stopped work to oil a bearing in her machine.
There was an odd note in her voice; it sounded to Richard as if she
meant: "You are not used to doing anything worth while."
"I don't mind it in the least," he protested.
"I'm sorry not to take my work to another room," Roberta went on,
tipping up her machine and manipulating levers with skill as she applied
the oil. "But I shall soon be through."
"Please don't hurry. I ought to be able to work under any conditions.
And I certainly enjoy having you at work in the same room," he ventured
to add. It was odd how he found himself merely venturing to say to this
girl things which he would have said without hesitation--putting them
much more strongly withal--to any other girl he knew.
"One needs to be able to forget there's anybody in the same room." There
was a little curl of scorn about her lips.
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