Heaven forbid. She had to wait some minutes in an outer office, wherein three young men of spirited costume and appearance regarded her with ill-concealed curiosity and admiration. There are a thousand questions I'd like to ask you, but I sha'n't ask them. ‘You are Mrs Ibstock, I think,’ she said eagerly. Then he rallied, smiling a little. She felt very cool as he opened the door for her, as if she should have chic sunglasses and stiletto heels on, dark red lipstick. Every girl in the world practically, except a few of us who teach or type-write, and then we’re underpaid and sweated—it’s dreadful to think how we are sweated!” She had lost her generalization, whatever it was. “With regard to the conditions I mentioned,” Sir John continued, gaining a little confidence from Anna’s silence, “I think you will admit that they are not wholly unreasonable.
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