Miss Flinch surveyed her impersonally before she nodded.
"May I see him at once?" asked Marguerite, growing more certain of herself now, and speaking excitedly.
"He isn't here yet."
"Not here?" the little catch in Marguerite's voice could be heard around the room. "How soon will he be in? I've got to catch a Western train and there's only three quarters of an hour."
"I can't say when he'll be in," said the secretary regarding her indifferently. "It might be in five minutes, it might be half an hour."
"But you're sure he is coming? This morning?"
"Positive," said the laconic secretary. "His wife's in the private office waiting for him now. There's all these people waiting to see him, and he's awfully busy besides. He's got to sign a lot of letters and meet two men at one o'clock, and he's taking his wife and children off for a holiday. If that isn't a full day, I don't know where you come in. But you can sit down and wait if you think there's any chance for you."
"Oh, I won't keep him but an instant. If I can just see him!"
The secretary waved her to a chair.
"You'll have to take your turn," she warned her.