“Look here. Haven't you been calling on heaven and earth all afternoon to help you write a story?”
I nodded, and then a possible explanation occurred to me and my spine got cold. Suppose this was the ghost of a stenographer applying for a job! I had had an advertisement in the paper recently. I opened my mouth to explain that the position was filled, and permanently so, but she stopped me.
“And when I got back to the office from my last case and was ready for you, didn't you switch off to something else and sit there driveling so I couldn't attract your attention until just now?”
“I—I'm very sorry, really.”
“Well, you needn't be, because I just came to tell you to stop bothering us for assistance; you ain't going to get it. We're going on Strike!”
“What!”
“You don't have to yell at me.”
“I—I didn't mean to yell,” I said humbly. “But I'm afraid I didn't quite understand you. You said you were——”
“Going on strike. Don't you know what a strike is? Not another plot do you get from us!”
I stared at her and wet my lips.