"Yes, Miss Vivian."
"Thank Heaven!" piously ejaculated Char, entirely pour la forme, since the interviews which cut into her day's work afforded her the only relief she obtained from its monotonous strain.
"Then I'll get through these letters at once. Send those to Mrs. Potter; and, Miss Delmege, you can take these—the rest are for the Clothing Department. Miss Jones, kindly deal with these files.... Send for Miss Coll—Mrs. Baker-Bridges, to take down some letters at once."
Miss Delmege looked rather disturbed, and remained standing at Char's elbow without speaking.
Miss Vivian, as was customary with her when wishing to display absorption in her work, continued to turn over the papers on the table without raising her eyes.
At last she looked up and said sharply:
"What is it, Miss Delmege? You fidget me very much by standing there in that unmeaning way. Do you want anything?"
Miss Delmege cleared her throat nervously. Too well did she know the peculiar note of crisp asperity now sounding in her chief's voice.
"I'm afraid the stenographer isn't here today."
"And why on earth not?"