"I'm sorry," said the girl, "but that's impossible. Do please give her this card"; and Jan succumbed.
Ben, in her fortress, examined the card. "Miss Viola Marquand," she read. "What is she like?" she asked.
"Very young," said Jan. "And very pretty. Says she met you at dinner once at Lady Toulmin's. Her furs cost a hundred if they cost a penny. One of those gold mesh bags. No rouge, though. She seems excited and worried."
"And she won't say what she wants?"
"No," said Jan. "Not to me. Not to underlings. The boss or nothing."
"Well," said Ben, "show her in; but keep an eye on the time. She oughtn't to be here more than ten minutes. Interrupt us then."
Miss Marquand entered shyly. "It's very kind of you to see me," she said, "and I have no right to bother you like this; but I'm in great trouble and I remembered how much I liked you the only time we met. Do you remember?"
"Yes," said Ben. "I remember now."
"And I was hearing that you had opened an advice bureau, and so I have made so bold as to come to you, because no one wants advice—help, rather—more than I do."
"Well," said Ben, "tell me."