I must try again--of course I must try again.
I selected a real estate office next.

A real estate broker, I knew for certain, was a business man.

Mr.George A.Hooker must be just waiting for the "Boston Searchlight." Mr.Hooker was indeed waiting, and he was telling "Central" about it.
"Yes, Central; waiting, waiting--What ?--Yes, yes; ring _four_--What's that ?--Since when ?--Why didn't you say so at first, then, instead of keeping me on the line--What ?--Oh, is that so?
Well, never mind this time, Central .-- I see, I see .-- All right." I had become so absorbed in this monologue that when Mr.Hooker swung around on me in his revolving chair I was startled, feeling that I had been caught eavesdropping.

I thought he was going to rebuke me, but he only said, "What can I do for you, Miss ?" Encouraged by his forbearance, I said:-- "Would you like to subscribe to the 'Boston Searchlight,' sir ?"--"Sir" was safer, after all.--"It's a dollar a year." I was supposed to say that it was the best paper in Boston, etc., but Mr.Hooker did not look interested, though he was not cross.
"No, thank you, Miss; no new papers for me.

Excuse me, I am very busy." And he began to dictate to a stenographer.
Well, that was not so bad.