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Tarkington, Booth, 1869-1946

"The Magnificent Ambersons"

"
"What is it?"
George flushed again, but managed to laugh at his own embarrassment.
"I suppose I'm about as ignorant of business as anybody in the world,"
he said. "But I've heard they pay very high wages to people in
dangerous trades; I've always heard they did, and I'm sure it must be
true. I mean people that handle touchy chemicals or high explosives--
men in dynamite factories, or who take things of that sort about the
country in wagons, and shoot oil wells. I thought I'd see if you
couldn't tell me something more about it, or else introduce me to
someone who could, and then I thought I'd see if I couldn't get
something of the kind to do as soon as possible. My nerves are good;
I'm muscular, and I've got a steady hand; it seemed to me that this
was about the only line of work in the world that I'm fitted for. I
wanted to get started to-day if I could."
Old Frank gave him a long stare. At first this scrutiny was sharply
incredulous; then it was grave; finally it developed into a threat of
overwhelming laughter; a forked vein in his forehead became more
visible and his eyes seemed about to protrude.


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