these girls are unskilled, ignorant, and terribly human you
find that a Mrs. Knowles saves the equivalent of ten times
her salary in wear and tear and general prevention. She
could have told you tragic stories, could Mrs. Knowles, and
sordid stories, and comic too; she knew how to deal with
terror, and shame, and stubborn silence, and hopeless
misery. Gray-haired and motherly? Not at all. An
astonishingly young, pleasingly plumpish woman, with nothing
remarkable about her except a certain splendid calm. Four
years out of Vassar, and already she had learned that if you
fold your hands in your lap and wait, quietly, asking no
questions, almost any one will tell you almost anything.

"Hello!" called Fanny. "How are our morals this morning?"

"Going up!" answered Esther Knowles, "considering that it's
Tuesday. Come in. How's the infant prodigy, I lunched with
Ella Monahan, and she told me your first New York trip
was a whirlwind. Congratulations!"

"Thanks. I can't stop. I haven't touched my desk to-day.
I just want to ask you if you know the name of that girl who
has charge of the main chute in the merchandise building."

"Good Lord, child! There are thousands of girls."

"But this one's rather special. She is awfully pretty, and
rather different looking. Exquisite coloring, a
discontented expression, and a blouse that's too low in the
neck."