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Clarence Desmond was standing next to his desk.
"Hello,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], Mr. Desmond. Well,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], I've come back,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]," Tracy said brightly.
"What for?" His tone was unfriendly. Definitely unfriendly.
It caught Tracy by surprise. She pressed on. "Well,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], you said I was the best computer operator you had ever seen,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], and I thought ---"
"You thought I'd give you back your old job?"
"Well,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], yes, sir. I haven't forgotten any of my skills. I can still---"
"Miss Whitney." It was no longer Tracy. "I'm sorry,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], but what you're asking is quite out of the question. I'm sure you can understand that our customers would not wish to deal with someone who served time in the penitentiary for armed robbery and attempted murder. That would hardly fit in with our high ethical image. I think it unlikely that given your background,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], any bank would hire you. I would suggest that you try to find employment more suitable to your circumstances. I hope you understand there is nothing personal in this."
Tracy listened to his words,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], first with shock and then with growing anger. He made her sound like an outcast,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], a leper. We wouldn't want to lose you. You're one of our most valuable employees.
"Was there anything else, Miss Whitney?" It was a dismissal.
There were a hundred things Tracy wanted to say, but she knew they would do no good. "No. I think you've said it all." Tracy turned and walked out the office door, her face burning. All the bank employees seemed to be staring at her. Mae had spread the word: The convict had come back. Tracy moved toward the exit, head held high,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], dying inside. I can't let them do this to me. My pride is all I have left, and no one is going to take that away from me.