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"I shall be loopy," said Rosamund, "if I stay here."

"Oh, don't say I've put you off the job. I tell you it's a good one—well paid and no more work than you can do in your spare time. You'll be a fool if you chuck it. Besides, I want you to stay."

"Oh, you do, do you?"

"Yes—I do."

He moved across to her with a sudden, lithe movement and kissed her on the mouth.

"Oh . . ." For a moment she could not speak. She held her hand over her mouth as if she were ashamed of it and wished to hide it. Then she said, "You're a fast worker."

"Always was."

He was in his chair again, leaning back and looking at her and laughing.

"But—" she said.

"But what?"

"Oh, I don't know what I was going to say . . . and be careful now—here she is coming back."

"Don't pretend you're angry with me, because you're not." His words were covered by the rattle of footsteps on the wooden stairs, "What were you saying your shorthand speed was, Mrs. Gailey?"

Lesley was in the room, smiling at them both.

"How have you got on? Do you think you've got the hang of the job?"