garden, were not only our crowd, as promised, but three more departments of sorters and checkers and filing clerks, all of whom we knew by sight only. With each group were their sergeants, like undergardeners. The Major, being head gardener, had his desk close to the first window as one came in through the door, thus having a full view of all his flowers. It was a master stroke. It was also a blow to us. Henceforward, there would be no more raids from the Big Bad Wolves, no more giggling over funny medical histories passed from hand to hand, no more poring over fashions, and no more savory tidbits read out from the newspapers. And it had been achieved without a single word of chiding.
When I returned from luncheon that day, I followed Claudia to her seat and sat aslant the corner of her table and talked. The Major came in and sat down at his desk.
"I say, Prescott-Clark, he’s looking at us," whispered Claudia.
"Let him, Carter," I said.
"I say, Prescott-Clark, you’d better skedaddle back to your place."
"In a minute, Claudia," I said. "I’m not a maidservant who picks up the broom and the duster as soon as the master shows up."
"Come here, Miss P.," called the Major.
"What did I tell you? Now you’re in for it," said Claudia. "And he knows your name, too—that’s bad."
I went up to the Major.
"I wanted to consult you on an important question, Miss P.," he said.
"Yes, Major," I said in my most dutiful voice.
"As you know, I’m now privileged to be in charge of you ladies. My greatest worry, of course, is to know if you are happy with your work. But in your own particular case, how am I to put it? If I asked you, ‘Are you happy with your work?’ it would be a joke, wouldn’t it? So I’ll just ask you if you are happy." And he laughed loudly. I could still hear his laughter as I walked back to my place.
During the tea break, Claudia said, "How on earth did you do it? All merry laughter. And I could have sworn he’d put you on the carpet."
"He didn’t. Because there is no carpet," I said.
Later on in the afternoon, I got up, gathered two pencils, and strolled at a leisurely pace to the far end of the room, where I devoted a good deal of time to sharpening them in the machine. I had barely returned to my table when the Major called, "Come here, Miss P." For a while, he looked at me in silence, smiling. He had excellent white teeth, too small and dainty for that square-jawed face, and they gave him an air of youthful eagerness and of guilelessness.
"Efficiency above all," he said.
"Yes, Major."
"Now, I’m afraid you are falling down in efficiency. If I were in your place, I’d take one pencil to be sharpened first, then go back, pick up the other, and do the second walk. Get the idea? Bear it in mind, will you?"
"I will. Thank you," I said.
He left the office soon after this, and I worked steadily during his long absence. When he returned, I saw him glance questioningly at me, with a smile. Furious, and intent on emphasizing my state of not being a maidservant, I got up and with deliberate speed did the round of several tables, searching for a refill for my stapler, which I could have got straightaway by asking the Sergeant for it.
"Come here, Miss P.," called the Major. "You are looking distressed," he said. "I hope nothing went wrong during your search."
"Nothing," I said.
"I thought maybe you are lamenting the late departed Colonel?"
"Certainly," I said.
"And will you lament me, too, when I’m gone?"
"Certainly not," I said.
"How’s that?" he asked.
"Because you are just a slave driver," I said.
"Sure."
"And that wouldn’t be so bad," I continued, "but on top of it, you enjoy it."
"Sure," he said. "Now I got you. You don’t like watching me having fun, is that it?"
I nodded. "You are uniting the useful with the beautiful, as Goethe would have put it," I said.
"I knew you’d be worthwhile to talk to," he remarked. "But what the hell. I must get some pleasure out of this damned
When I returned from luncheon that day, I followed Claudia to her seat and sat aslant the corner of her table and talked. The Major came in and sat down at his desk.
"I say, Prescott-Clark, he’s looking at us," whispered Claudia.
"Let him, Carter," I said.
"I say, Prescott-Clark, you’d better skedaddle back to your place."
"In a minute, Claudia," I said. "I’m not a maidservant who picks up the broom and the duster as soon as the master shows up."
"Come here, Miss P.," called the Major.
"What did I tell you? Now you’re in for it," said Claudia. "And he knows your name, too—that’s bad."
I went up to the Major.
"I wanted to consult you on an important question, Miss P.," he said.
"Yes, Major," I said in my most dutiful voice.
"As you know, I’m now privileged to be in charge of you ladies. My greatest worry, of course, is to know if you are happy with your work. But in your own particular case, how am I to put it? If I asked you, ‘Are you happy with your work?’ it would be a joke, wouldn’t it? So I’ll just ask you if you are happy." And he laughed loudly. I could still hear his laughter as I walked back to my place.
During the tea break, Claudia said, "How on earth did you do it? All merry laughter. And I could have sworn he’d put you on the carpet."
"He didn’t. Because there is no carpet," I said.
Later on in the afternoon, I got up, gathered two pencils, and strolled at a leisurely pace to the far end of the room, where I devoted a good deal of time to sharpening them in the machine. I had barely returned to my table when the Major called, "Come here, Miss P." For a while, he looked at me in silence, smiling. He had excellent white teeth, too small and dainty for that square-jawed face, and they gave him an air of youthful eagerness and of guilelessness.
"Efficiency above all," he said.
"Yes, Major."
"Now, I’m afraid you are falling down in efficiency. If I were in your place, I’d take one pencil to be sharpened first, then go back, pick up the other, and do the second walk. Get the idea? Bear it in mind, will you?"
"I will. Thank you," I said.
He left the office soon after this, and I worked steadily during his long absence. When he returned, I saw him glance questioningly at me, with a smile. Furious, and intent on emphasizing my state of not being a maidservant, I got up and with deliberate speed did the round of several tables, searching for a refill for my stapler, which I could have got straightaway by asking the Sergeant for it.
"Come here, Miss P.," called the Major. "You are looking distressed," he said. "I hope nothing went wrong during your search."
"Nothing," I said.
"I thought maybe you are lamenting the late departed Colonel?"
"Certainly," I said.
"And will you lament me, too, when I’m gone?"
"Certainly not," I said.
"How’s that?" he asked.
"Because you are just a slave driver," I said.
"Sure."
"And that wouldn’t be so bad," I continued, "but on top of it, you enjoy it."
"Sure," he said. "Now I got you. You don’t like watching me having fun, is that it?"
I nodded. "You are uniting the useful with the beautiful, as Goethe would have put it," I said.
"I knew you’d be worthwhile to talk to," he remarked. "But what the hell. I must get some pleasure out of this damned
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