Quicksand
sat scattered about on the long rows of chairs. Some were plainly uninterested, others wore an air of acute expectancy, which disturbed Helga. Behind a desk two alert young women, both wearing a superior air, were busy writ- ing upon and filing countless white cards. Now and then one stopped to answer the telephone.
“Y. W. C. A. employment. . . . Yes. Spell it, please. . . . Sleep in or out? Thirty dollars? . . . Thank you, I‘ll send one right over.”
Or, “I‘m awfully sorry, we haven‘t anybody right now, but I‘ll send you the first one that comes in.”
Their manners were obtrusively business-like, but they ignored the already embarrassed Helga. Diffidently she approached the desk. The darker of the two looked up and turned on a little smile.
“Yes?” she inquired.
“I wonder if you can help me? I want work,” Helga stated simply.
70
