"Yes, you can hide your mouths, but we have the advantage when it comes to skulls." She knew she had no need to conceal one or the other, for Nature, who had denied her beauty, had given her shapeliness, and she wondered if Jack Neville knew it. She was very happy in the companionship of these two men: whether or not they had eyes for her physical charms she could not tell, and it was not often that she cared, but she was sure they appreciated her intelligence. In this, as in many other matters, the two were at one, and gradually she was admitted to their counsels. "I wanted this," Mr. Smith said. "I intended it; but I had to see what you were made of. We need the woman's mind. There's been too much man about things. Jack is always finding starving genius in a garret--and of the male gender. Well, it would be a bit awkward for him if it wasn't--I admit that. Now you--now look here, Miss Webb, here's a delicate bit of work for you to do. Somebody came this morning with a tale about a young woman living over a bird shop. Nasty atmosphere, eh? She's been deserted by her husband, or else there isn't a husband--that's for you to find out. I want the truth of the matter, and you can get it. Here's the address. Never mind these letters: they can wait, and if you're a success as my female agent I can get any fool to play with that typewriter. Well, what's the matter?" There was a sound of trouble in her voice. "I should like to do this new work. I think it's the kind of thing I can do, but please, please, don't let anyone else touch my papers. I can't bear even Mr. Neville to interfere with them, and I can easily find time to do everything. Why, you don't work us half hard enough. And I should hate to give up my chair, and my table, and my typewriter, and all my beautiful files." "There you are, keeping some other woman out of a job." "Oh----" "Never mind! Never mind! I assure you I don't want a stranger. She'd be sure to sniff."