Ivy was desperate. She had been working for seven hours, and she had seen, found or heard nothing— not a scrap of juicy gossip, not a heated exchange between overworked secretaries, not a rumor of high-level huggermugger —with which to amuse, delight or intrigue Mr. Pym. In an hour and a half she would be visiting the man's home to ask a big favor of him, a dangerous favor, and she had promised to deliver something in return. He didn't seem to care, but she did: She couldn't bear to be a beggar. Sweet baby Jesus, come through for me now, she whispered as she wheeled her utility cart—loaded with mop, broom, dust rags, toilet paper, paper towels, furniture polish, trash bags and light bulbs—down the marble halls of the Executive Office Building. She had spent the first few hours of her shift in the cafeteria, cleaning up after the breakfast crowd, then after the coffee-break crowd, and setting up for lunch.
What do You think about Benchley, Peter - Novel 06?
