390	ANGEL     PAVEMENT
"Revolting!" murmured Miss Morrison.
"And if you're a wild Socialist or something, like that
Colenberg girl, you find yourself secretary to Lady
Thomson-Greggs in Berkeley Square and grumble like
anything because the place is stiff with footmen. I told
Ivor about that, the other night, and he said I ought to
write an article about it for the papers."
"Why don't you?" said Miss Snaresbrook. "I'm sure
you could write. You have the gift of expression. I
don't think I've looked at your hand yet, have I? I'm
sure it's written in your hand."
Miss Matfield looked across the table in time to catch
a disgusted glance from Morrison, whose grey eyes had
also the gift of expression and announced quite clearly
that Snaresbrook was revolting. "Well, I don't think
much of my job/1 said Miss Matfield, "but I don't know
that I particularly want anybody else's here. The fact
is, they're all pretty rotten, and that's the real trouble.
We don't any of us get a chance to do anything really
important. They're all silly little mechanical jobs. If
we were men, we'd be doing something decent now.
What chance has a girl? The rot they talk about women
working! The men jolly well see where all the decent
jobs go to. And you know it."
'True, Miss Matfield," said Miss Snaresbrook, turning
on all the sympathetic stops. "I feel it's particularly un-
just in your case. A girl with a strong character like
you is entitled to an important, responsible post. We
have a long way to go yet. Men are still trying to hold
women back, to keep them in inferior places. And their
attitude! The things some of those film men have said
to me!" She sighed, then switched on the headlights.
"Yes, I'll bet they're a tough crowd," said Caddie