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Rinehart, Mary Roberts, 1876-1958

"Dangerous Days"

I make a lot, really."
"Tell me about the night work."
"We've gone on double turn. I rather like it at night. It's
- well, it's like something on the stage. The sparks fly from the
lathes, and they look like fireworks. And when they hammer on hot
metal it's lovely."
She talked on, incoherent but glowing. She liked her big turret
lathe. It gave her a sense of power. She liked to see the rough
metal growing smooth and shining like silver under her hands. She
was naively pleased that she was doing a man's work, and doing it
well.
Audrey leaned back in her chair and listened. All this that Clare
was talking about was Clayton's doing. He at least had dreamed
true. He was doing a man's part, too, in the war. Even this girl,
whose hand Natalie Spencer would not have touched, this girl was
dreaming true.
Clare was still talking. The draft would be hard on the plant.
They were short-handed now. There was talk of taking in more girls
to replace the men who would be called.


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