CHAPTER XXVI
WITHOUT COUNTING THE COST
There had been a revival of speculation in industrial enterprise, and it was unusually late at night when Miss Townshead rose wearily from the table she had been busy at. Her eyes ached, her fingers and arms were cramped, but that did not distress her greatly, for Townshead needed many comforts, and she was earning what would have been considered in England a liberal salary. It was very quiet in the room at the top of the towering building, where, however, another young woman, who as it happened was jealous of her companion's progress, still sat writing, and a light blinked in the adjoining one across the passage in which one of the heads of the firm would probably remain most of the night. Trade is spasmodic in the West, and those who live by it
