Miss Harbury closed her account books with a series of small thuds, and then proceeded to put them away in the capacious drawers hidden underneath the reception desk. She pushed a few errant strands of grey hair out of her eyes, and stared piercingly at the young woman who was about to take over her place behind the polished semicircular counter.“You look,” she commented abruptly, “as if you could do with a change. Don’t you ever get out of this place? You’ve worked like a donkey ever since you’ve been here, and you didn’t have to volunteer for extra duty tonight, you know. They’d have found someone—they always do.”The girl smiled slightly, and glanced around the softly lit emptiness of the foyer.“I’m not very keen on going out,” she said. “For one thing, I don’t know many people in London. And I love sitting here, watching people—and talking to them.”“Well, dear, if my contact with humanity were limited to the chats I have while I’m sitting here I should think I might as well be in solitary confinement.
