"Jim! Don't lose your temper."
The inspector's fist scattered the papers on his desk top.
"Who's running this office?"
Garth scarcely heard. He strode to the woman. He snatched the intricately-patterned shawl from her head. The face beneath was old, stained, and wrinkled; but there was no disguising the dark, young eyes which smiled up at him.
"So that's why?" he gasped. "You've done it well, Nora. Now maybe I can know something about it."
She laughed.
"Not if you resign. So much dignity!"
He laughed back.
"Nor if I'm fired."
The inspector grinned.