The elevator man made her the curtest of inclinations, and proceeded to arrange matters with a rapidity which almost took her breath away.
"Typist and stenographer?" he said. "Know anything about account-keeping?"
Winifred admitted that she possessed these abilities, and Hamilton appeared to reflect for a moment or two.
"Well," he said, "in a fortnight we'll give you a show. You can start at—" and he mentioned terms which rather astonished Winifred. "If you can keep things straight we may raise you later."
"Won't you want to see any testimonials?" she asked.
"No," said Hamilton. "I've seen a good many, and I'm inclined to fancy some of the folks who showed them me must have bought them." He waved his hand. "Mr. Wyllard assures me that you'll do, and in the meanwhile that's quite enough for me."
It struck Winifred as curious that, while Agatha had written to Hawtrey on her behalf, it was Wyllard who had secured her the opportunity she had longed for; but she thanked the elevator man before she turned to him.
"There's another matter," she said hesitatingly. "I'll have to live here?"
Wyllard smiled. "I've seen to that, though if you don't like my arrangements you can alter them afterwards. Mrs. Sandberg will take you in, and even if she isn't particularly amiable you'll be in safe hands."
Hamilton laughed. "Oh, yes," he said. "She's Scotch—old type Calvinist at that. No frivolity about that woman. Married a Scandinavian, and was just breaking him in when he was killed back East along the track."