TURGIS SEES HER 163

looked round to find the new typist at his elbow, looking
up at him with her biggish brown eyes. She had a lot of
powder on one side of her nose, and none at all, just
shiny skin, on the other side. No good.

"Please," said Miss Sellers in her chirpy little Cockney
voice, "please, have you written to the Anglo-What's-It
Shipping?"

"No, I haven't," he replied.

She merely stared.

"I haven't written to the Anglo-WhatVIt Shipping,"
he continued severely, "because I've never heard of the
Anglo-What's-It Shipping. Don't know them-see?"

"Oo, I'm sorry," though she did not sound very sorry.
"Have I said something wrong? I can't remember all
these names yet. Give me a chance. You know who I
mean, don't you? It is Anglo-something, isn't it?*'

"If it's the Anglo-Baltic Shipping Co. you're talking
about," said Turgis, with dignity, "then I have written to
them. Wrote yesterday, Ymatter of fact. But to the
Anglo-Baltic, mind you. There's no 'What's-it' about it/'

The girl looked at him for a moment. "Oo," she cried
softly, "squashed!" And then she promptly walked away.

Turgis glanced after her with distaste. "Getting
cheeky now," he told himself. "That's the latest-get-
ting cheeky. And just because she can't make up to me.
All right, Miss Dirty Fringe, you'll have to be told off
soon, you will. Try it again, that's all, just try it again."
And he was filled with a righteous indignation, pointing
out to himself that these girls didn't know theirplace in
an office, wouldn't get on with their work properly, and
were always trying their little tricks on men who wanted
to do their job with no nonsense about it.

There was a familiar scurrying, as of some small