Char smiled.
She was still looking ill, and she knew that her departure from Plessing had been a severe strain on her barely recovered strength. The effort of giving her attention to the arrears of work which required it taxed all her powers of determination.
"Is this all the back work, Miss Delmege?"
"Yes, I think so, Miss Vivian."
"There are several things here which ought to have been brought to me."
"I suppose Miss Jones didn't know."
"But she ought to have known. It was most annoying having to leave so much to her. She hasn't the necessary experience for one thing, and is far too fond of acting on her own initiative."
It gave Char a curious satisfaction to say this in the cool and judicial tones of complete impartiality.
"I shall have a fearful amount to do with these back numbers. Bring me the Hospital files, and the Belgian file, and W.O. letters—and—yes, let me see—Colonial Officers. That will do for the moment; and send for Miss Collins, please."
The stenographer entered the room with her most dégagé swing, and seated herself opposite to Char, her pad poised upon her crossed knees.