“Come into my office, won’t you?” West led the way, and Miss Wing followed, suggesting by her walk the steps of a dancer. As she passed the clerks glanced up and smiled covertly at one another. When she had seated herself she looked at West for a moment without speaking, her face bright with good humor. “I’ve come on a funny errand,” she said at last, rubbing her left arm with her gloved hand. “That’s interesting,” said West, cheerfully. “I want you to do something for me.” The smile disappeared from his face, but swiftly returned. West rarely suffered more than a momentary eclipse. At this moment, however, his instinct warned him of danger. “I shall be only too glad,” he began, but Miss Wing cut him short. “I want,” she said, waving one hand with the air of making a joke, “I want to place my services at your feet.” West continued to smile. “What do you mean?” he asked. “I want you to give me something to do. I want you to give me a share in your enterprises. I know I can be useful to you.” “But what about your own work--your newspaper work?” Miss Wing snapped her gloved fingers. “What does that amount to? Why, it hardly pays for my frocks. And to tell the truth,” she went on, her manner growing more familiar, “I’m not at all clever at it. My editor has to rewrite nearly everything I send him. By nature I’m a business woman. Society reporting bores me. I like larger interests. That’s what I came to Washington for.” West showed that he was growing interested by slightly closing his left eye. This gave him a curiously sinister expression, which Miss Wing observed. “You want to do some political work--is that the idea?” he asked. Miss Wing sank back in her chair. “I want to get a little power if I can, and to use it for my own advantage. Now, there’s frankness for you. But I’m only a beginner. I’m just getting my start.” West cleared his throat. “Since you’re so frank, Miss Wing,” he said, pleasantly, “perhaps you’ll tell me just what you have in mind.” On being confronted with this question Miss Wing flushed. “I think you know perfectly well what I mean. I’ve told you that I want you to let me into your schemes.” West shrugged his shoulders; his face became almost sad. “I haven’t any schemes of that sort,” he said, softly. Miss Wing laughed outright. “You haven’t any interest in railroad legislation?” she asked, with a lift of the eyebrows. “It is true that I’m employed by a railroad. But as you aren’t a lawyer, I don’t see how you could help me.” Miss Wing looked at him for a long time, her smile hardening. “I’m surprised that you should treat me like this.” Then her face softened. “I’m a little hurt, too.” “You wanted me to be frank,” West replied, gently.