“Hello!” he cried as he opened the door. Then he stood transfixed at the vision that met his sight, for a very blond and fuzzy head was bent over Ellery’s desk and a very startled pair of blue eyes was raised to meet his own. There stood a rosebud dressed in gray. Is there anything more demure and innocent than a pinky girl in a mousy gown? Dick’s hat came off and a deferential look replaced the careless one.
“Hello, yourself!” said Norris. “You announce yourself like a telephone girl. Come in. What do you mean by troubling the quiet waters of my daily toil?”
“I beg your pardon,” said Dick politely. “If you are busy I—”
“That’s all right. Miss Quincy and I can postpone our confab without inconveniencing the order of the universe.” Miss Quincy was already gathering her notes, and she smiled at Dick in a half-shy way that said, “I remember you very plainly.” As she disappeared slowly down the hall, Dick started after her.
“Great Scott, Ellery!” he ejaculated. “How you have lied to me about the grubbiness of your work! If this is your daily grind, I don’t mind having a whirl at the editorial profession myself.”
Norris laughed.
“It isn’t the sum total of my duties,” he said.
“Who is Hebe?” asked Dick.
“Well, she’s rather a problem,” Ellery replied. “I believe she appeared a few weeks ago at Miss Huntress’ office—the woman editor, you know—with a catchy little article on fashions. It happened that the boss was in the office, and we consider it rather a grind on him, for he was much taken by either the article or the eyes, and she got a little job as a sort of reportorial maid-of-all-work. Funny, isn’t it? If a man is buying a rug, he wouldn’t think of deciding on it because it was green, without testing its wearing qualities; but in nine cases out of ten a girl gets chosen because of her eyes. That’s all I know about her. Pretty, isn’t she?”
“Pretty! Is that all the command you have of your native language? You ought to lose your job for that. Why she’s—never mind—I haven’t time now.”