"Come on up on deck, Emma; I've only a few minutes left."

She snatched a pink rose from the box, and together they went on
deck.

"Just ten minutes," said Buck. He was looking down at her.
"Remember, Emma, nothing that concerns the firm's business,
however big, is half as important as the things that concern you
personally, however small. I realize what this trip will mean to
us, if it pans, and if you can beat Meyers to it. But if
anything should happen to you, why----"

"Nothing's going to happen, T. A., except that I'll probably
come home with my complexion ruined. I'll feel a great deal more
at home talking pidgin-English to Senor Alvarez in Buenos Aires
than you will talking Featherlooms to Miss Skirt-Buyer in Cedar
Rapids, Iowa. But remember this, T. A.: When you get to
know--really to know--the Sadie Harrises and the Sammy Blochs and
the Ella Sweeneys of this world, you've learned just about all
there is to know about human beings. Quick--the gangplank!
Goodby, T. A."

The dock reached, he gazed up at her as she leaned far over the
railing. He made a megaphone of his hands.

"I feel like an old maid who's staying home with her knitting,"
he called.

The boat began to move. Emma McChesney passed a quick hand over
her eyes.