She stopped a policeman to ask him and found it to be within easy walking distance.
“We might as well go now,” Irene agreed.
Perhaps if they thought about it too long they might lose heart and not attempt it.
The literary agent’s office was located in an old hotel on the northeast side of the square. The building looked as if it had been unchanged for a century. In the lobby Judy and Irene paused, surveying the quaint furniture and mural decorations before they mustered enough courage to inquire at the desk for Emily Grimshaw.
“Who’s calling?” the clerk asked tartly.
“Tell her—” Judy hesitated. “Tell her it’s two girls to see her on business.”
The message was relayed over the switchboard and presently the clerk turned and said, “She will see one of you. First stairway to the left. Fourth floor.”
“Only one—” Judy began.
“She always sees one client at a time. The other girl can wait.”
“That’s right. I—I’ll wait,” Irene stammered.