"Twenty-two."
"Occupation?"
"Stenographer." The answer had a faint note of defiance.
"Expert? We handle only experts, you know."
"Expert," said Mary Wayne.
There were other questions. Had she a knowledge of office management? No. Of bookkeeping? No. Of foreign languages? She knew French; a little Spanish. Did she understand filing systems? She thought so. Education? There had been two years in college; necessity compelled her to give up the remainder.
The woman behind the desk surveyed her from hat to shoes in a rapid, impersonal glance, then wrote something in another blank space. Mary wildly yearned to know what it was, but checked the impulse to lean forward and see.
"Now, your references, please."
"I have no references."