What sort of person was she? A relative? No. Relatives didn’t discuss terms with authors. Wives and sweethearts didn’t either. They might discuss his books, but not terms. Anyway Irene hoped that Dale Meredith had no wife or sweetheart, certainly not a sweetheart with a name like Emily Grimshaw. That name sounded as harsh to the ears as Dale Meredith sounded musical.
Flipping the pages of the directory, Judy came upon the answer to their question:
“AUTHOR’S AGENTS (See Literary Agents).”
“That might be it!”
She turned to the place and, beginning at the top of the page, both girls searched eagerly through the G’s.
“Greenspan, Grier, Grimshaw....”
The name was Emily and the address was a number on Madison Square. Irene was so excited that she declared she could feel her heart thumping under her slip-on sweater.
“I’d give anything to meet him again, Judy! Anything!”
And suddenly Judy wanted to meet him too, not for her own sake but for Irene’s. A bold plan began to take shape in her mind. If she and Irene found positions in Emily Grimshaw’s office Dale Meredith would never know that it had not been a simple coincidence. It would be such fun—this scheming. It would give them something to do and if Judy’s plan worked it might even solve the problem of Pauline’s career.
“Of course Emily Grimshaw may not hire us,” Judy said after she had outlined the scheme and won Irene’s approval. “But, at any rate, it’s worth trying. We won’t need to tell her it’s only for a few weeks when Pauline will be there to step right into the position. I wonder how you get to Madison Square.”