For it was one of her dreams, perhaps the six hundred and seventy-ninth
in the series, that one day she would sit at a desk answering
innumerable telephone calls with projecting jaw, as millionaires do on
the movies, and crushing rivals like blackbeetles in order that, after
being reviled by the foolish as a heartless plutocrat, she might hand a
gigantic Trust over to the Socialist State.

"Mr. Philip," she said.

Apparently he did not hear her, though the other man turned his dark
glance on her.

"Mr. Philip," she said. He looked across at her with a blankness she
took as part of the business. "I've been taking Commercial Spanish at
Skerry's. I took a first-class certificate. Maybe I could manage the
letters?"

"Oh!" exclaimed Yaverland explosively. He appeared to be about to make
some objection, and then he bit back the speech that was already in his
mouth. And as he tried to find other words the beauty of her body caught
his attention. It was, as it happened, very visible at that moment. The
fulness of her overall had fallen to one side as she sat on the high
stool, and so that linen was tightly wrapped about her, disclosing that
she was made like a delicate fleet beast; in the valley between her high
small breasts there lay a shadow, which grew greater when she breathed
deeply. He looked at her with the dispassionateness which comes to men
who have lived much in countries where nakedness offers itself unashamed
to the sunlight, and said to himself, "I should like to see her run." He
knew that a body like this must possess an infinite capacity for
physical pleasure, that to her mere walking would give more joy than