"Let me have those Requisition Averages by twelve o'clock, please--and I think that completes you, Miss Plumtree?" concluded Miss Vivian rapidly. "Thank you, Miss Vivian. Is--are--do these averages include the first day of the month as well as the last?" "Yes, of course. And remember to give the gross weight of the supplies as well as the net weight." "And I--I divide by the number of days in each month. Yes, I see," faltered Miss Plumtree, seeing nothing at all except the brisk tapping of Miss Vivian's long, slight fingers on the blotting-paper in front of her, denoting with sufficient clearness that in her opinion the interview had reached its conclusion some moments since. "It's for August, September, and October, isn't it?" "Yes." Miss Vivian's tone implied that the question was unnecessary in the extreme, as indeed it was, since Miss Plumtree had been engaged in conducting the quarterly Requisition Averages to an unsuccessful issue for the past eighteen months. "Thank you." Miss Plumtree faltered from the room, with the consciousness of past failures heavy upon her. Char did not like an attitude of sycophantic dejection, and Miss Plumtree may therefore have been responsible for the very modified enthusiasm with which the next applicant's request for an afternoon off duty was received. "It rather depends, Miss Cox," said Char, her drawl slightly emphasized. "I thought the work in that department was behindhand?" "Not now, Miss Vivian," said the grey-haired spinster anxiously. "Mrs. Tweedale and I cleared it all up last night; I'm quite up to date." "Well, I'm afraid there's a good deal for you here," said Char rather cruelly, handing her a bundle of papers. "However, please take your afternoon off if you want to, and if you feel that the work can be left." "Thank you, Miss Vivian." Miss Cox, who was meek and deferential, left the room, the pleasurable anticipation of a holiday quite gone from her tired face. Char looked at the neatly coiled twist of Miss Delmege's sand-coloured hair. "Was I a wet-blanket?" she inquired whimsically. "Really, the way these people are always asking for leave! I wonder what would happen if _I_ took an afternoon off. How long is it since I had a holiday, Miss Delmege?" "You've not had one since I've been here," declared her secretary, "and that's nearly a year." "Exactly. But then I can't understand putting anything before the work, personally." Char returned to her pile of letters and Miss Delmege went on with her writing in a glow of admiration, and resolved that, after all, she would come and work on Sunday morning, although nominally no one came to the office on Sundays except the clerks who took turns for telephone duty, and Miss Vivian herself in the afternoon. The morning was a busy one. Telephone calls seemed incessant, and the operator downstairs was unintelligent and twice cut Miss Vivian off in the midst of an important trunk call.