“He offered me that job, Al thought, to rehabilitate me. “I’ve got some news,” he said to Julie at last, breaking his mood of introspection. “I got offered a job.” At once she said alertly, “What job?” “For seven-fifty a month,” he said. “Plus expense account. And that’s just starting salary.” “Seven hundred and fifty dollars?” she said, her eyes wide. “Tell me about it. What do you have to do? Who is it?” “A phonograph record outfit,” he said. “It would be public relations.”... His tone was so gloomy, so resigned, that her face fell. “It’s just a fluke,” he said. “I’m not qualified for it. I’d last about two weeks. Or two days.” He continued eating. “But why not take it?” Julie said. “Maybe you’re wrong; you know you’re always so pessimistic, and you just sit around and let things happen—this job falls in your lap and you just sit there.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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