one, and took all this wealth away from them, at the same time
exterminating the males. Result: the females, ladies in the essential
sense, must either become gainful or starve. They have not starved.
Sociologically, it's interesting. Make Colonel Cowles tell you about it
some time."
"He has told me about it. In fact he tells me constantly. And this work
that you do," he said, not unkindly and not without interest, "what is
it? Are you a teacher, perhaps, a ... no!--You speak of an office. You
are a clerk, doubtless, a bookkeeper, a stenographer, an office girl?"
She nodded with exaggerated gravity. "You have guessed my secret. I am a
clerk, bookkeeper, stenographer, and office girl. My official title, of
course, is a little more frilly, but you describe--"
"Well? What is it?"
"They call it Assistant Secretary of the State Department of Charities."
He looked astonished; she had no idea his face could take on so much
expression.
"You! _You_! Why, how on earth did you get such a position?"
"Pull," said Sharlee.
Their eyes met, and she laughed him down.
"Who is the real Secretary to whom you are assistant?"
"The nicest man in the world. Mr. Dayne--Rev. George Dayne."
"A parson! Does he know anything about his subject? Is he an expert?--a
trained relief worker? Does he know Willoughby? And Smathers? And
Conant?"
"Knows them by heart. Quotes pages of them at a time in his letters
without ever glancing at the books."
"And you?"
"I may claim some familiarity with their theories."
He fussed with his pencil. "I recall defining sociology for you one
night at my boarding-house...."
"I remember."
"Well," said he, determined to find something wrong, "those men whom I
mentioned to you are not so good as they think, particularly Smathers. I
may as well tell you that I shall show Smathers up completely in my
book."
"We shall examine your arguments with care and attention. We leave no
stone unturned to keep abreast of the best modern thought."
"It is extraordinary that such a position should be held by a girl like
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