Franklin West looked up. “Who is she?”
“She told me just to say a lady wanted to see you.”
“All right.” West rose slowly and left the room. A moment later he was greeting Miss Beatrice Wing.
“This is an unexpected pleasure,” he said, with his large smile.
Miss Wing was radiant in a new Spring frock, a tight-fitting blue serge suit, with a large hat, trimmed with blue flowers, resting jauntily on her auburn hair.
“I don’t often come out so early,” she replied, “especially after such late hours.” She looked as if she had had the night’s rest of a child.
“Come into my office, won’t you?” West led the way, and Miss Wing followed, suggesting by her walk the steps of a dancer. As she passed the clerks glanced up and smiled covertly at one another. When she had seated herself she looked at West for a moment without speaking, her face bright with good humor.
“I’ve come on a funny errand,” she said at last, rubbing her left arm with her gloved hand.
“That’s interesting,” said West, cheerfully.
“I want you to do something for me.”