“Why shouldn’t I walk straight in and say that I’ve come for work?”
Nelly’s big eyes grew bigger.
“But you couldn’t!”
“Why not?”
“Why, you couldn’t!”
“I don’t see why.”
Mr Brown intervened with decision.
“You’re dead right,” he said to Jill approvingly. “If you ask me, that’s the only sensible thing to do. Where’s the sense of hanging around and getting stalled? Managers are human guys, some of ’em. Probably, if you were to try it, they’d appreciate a bit of gall. It would show ’em you’d got pep. You go down there and try walking straight in. They can’t eat you. It makes me sick when I see all those poor devils hanging about outside these offices, waiting to get noticed and nobody ever paying any attention to them. You push the office-boy in the face if he tries to stop you, and go in and make ’em take notice. And, whatever you do, don’t leave your name and address! That’s the old, moth-eaten gag they’re sure to try to pull on you. Tell ’em there’s nothing doing. Say you’re out for a quick decision! Stand ’em on their heads!”
Jill got up, fired by this eloquence. She called for her check.
“Good-bye,” she said. “I’m going to do exactly as you say. Where can I find you afterwards?” she said to Nelly.