If Charlie was out of his office—. Well, I couldn't be any more in a jam without shoes than with shoes.
A face appeared at the window. Our secretary Claire. She peered out for an instant, but the angle was too extreme for her to see me waving crazily. As she disappeared I let out an anguished shout. She reappeared, pressed the window lever, and stuck her head outside.
"Mr. Sponsor!" she said in amazement.
"Is Spacker there?" I had no time to dwell on the situation.
"No, Mr. Sponsor, he's still in the pit." A frown crossed her forehead. "But there are some gentlemen—waiting to see you."
"Yes, I know about them. Now, Claire. Come into my office through the adjoining door and open this window. And first please reach out and get my shoes."
She smiled, and I too had to see the humor.
Claire was a pretty-faced brunette with ultra-fair complexion and a tendency towards overweight which kept her eating prescriptions instead of meals. She couldn't compete with our robot steno, but customers like to deal with a human being. And she was loyal.
She let me in and handed me my shoes.
I sat down, put them on. "Those men outside are not to know I'm here." This was the real test of her loyalty.