accomplish even more good than usually.
"Very truly yours."

He turned an inquiring glance toward Sarah.

"That's what I usually give, isn't it?"

The secretary nodded energetically.

"Yes," she agreed in her brisk manner, "that's what you have
given every year for the last ten years."

The statement impressed Gilder pleasantly. His voice was more
mellow as he made comment. His heavy face was radiant, and he
smiled complacently.

"Ten thousand dollars to this one charity alone!" he exclaimed.
"Well, it is pleasant to be able to help those less fortunate
than ourselves." He paused, evidently expectant of laudatory
corroboration from the secretary.

But Sarah, though she could be tactful enough on occasion, did
not choose to meet her employer's anticipations just now. For
that matter, her intimate services permitted on her part some
degree of familiarity with the august head of the establishment.
Besides, she did not stand in awe of Gilder, as did the others in
his service. No man is a hero to his valet, or to his secretary.
Intimate association is hostile to hero-worship. So, now, Sarah
spoke nonchalantly, to the indignation of the philanthropist: