"He didn't know your head was in the way," the girl said.
"Huh?" Bellows grunted. He took a good look at the girl and the anger drained from his face. Without thinking he straightened his tie and slicked back his oily black hair.
"You must be Miss Burnett, the girl the agency said they were sending," Bellows murmured in his most dulcet tones. "Well, well, Wilbur, this is my new secretary."
"But how do you know I'll do?" Miss Burnett said, startled.
"Oh, you'll do. I just know you will," Bellows told her. "You and I are going to get along just dandy."
"My shorthand is a little rusty," the girl said.
"What's a little thing like that?" Bellows laughed, ignoring the fact that he had fired his last secretary because she had misspelled an eight-syllable word.
But the last secretary had worn thick glasses, Wilbur recalled. That would make a difference to Pete Bellows. He was suddenly aware that Bellows was frowning at him.
"Get to work, Mook," Bellows said cheerfully. "Mother's Day is coming, you know."
With what he pretended was a gentle pat on the back Bellows flung Wilbur toward the tiny cubicle he occupied at the rear of the large office. Once Bellows had played tackle on a football team and although he was beefier now he was still very strong. Wilbur almost went through the thin partition.