Emma

The door marked MRS. MCCHESNEY was closed. T. A. Buck, president of the Buck Featherloom Petticoat Company, coming gaily down the hall, stopped before it, dismayed, as one who, with a spicy bit of news at his tongue’s end, is met with rebuff before the first syllable is voiced. That closed door meant: Busy. Keep out.
She’ll be reading a letter, T. A. Buck told himself grimly. Then he turned the knob and entered his partner’s office.