Unexpected Mrs. Pollifax Read Free

contributed further to this impression when he joined her. He carried himself like a man capable of classifying and disposing of people as well as wastepaper but with tact, skill and efficiency. He briskly shook her hand, glanced at his watch and motioned her to a chair. “I’m afraid I can give you only ten minutes,” he said. “This room is needed at two o’clock. But tell me how I can help you.”
    With equal efficiency Mrs. Pollifax handed him the introduction that she had extracted from her congressman; she had not told the congressman her real reason for wishing to interview someone in this building, but she had been compelling. The young man read the note, frowned, glanced at Mrs. Pollifax and frowned again. He seemed particularly disapproving when he looked at her hat, and Mrs. Pollifax guessed that the single fuchsia-pink rose that adorned it must be leaning again like a broken reed.
    “Ah—yes, Mrs. Politflack,” he murmured, obviously baffled by the contents of the introduction—which sounded in awe of Mrs. Pollifax—and by Mrs. Pollifax herself, who did not strike him as awesome at all.
    “Pollifax,” she pointed out gently.
    “Oh—sorry. Now just what is it I can do for you, Mrs. Pollifax? It says here that you are a member of a garden club of your city, and are gathering facts and information—”
    Mrs. Pollifax brushed this aside impatiently. “No, no, not really,” she confided, and glancing around to be sure that the door was closed, she leaned toward him. In a low voice she said, “Actually I’ve come to inquire about your spies.”
    The young man’s jaw dropped. “I beg your pardon?”
    Mrs. Pollifax nodded. “I was wondering if you needed any.”
    He continued staring at her and she wished that he would close his mouth. Apparently he was very obtuse—perhaps he was hard of hearing. Taking care to enunciate clearly, she said in a louder voice, “I would like to apply for work as a spy. That’s why I’m here, you see.”
    The young man closed his mouth. “You can’t possibly—you’re not serious,” he said blankly.
    “Yes, of course,” she told him warmly. “I’ve come to volunteer. I’m quite alone, you see, with no encumbrances or responsibilities. It’s true that my only qualifications are thoseof character, but when you reach my age character is what you have the most of. I’ve raised two children and run a home, I drive a car and know first aid, I never shrink from the sight of blood and I’m very good in emergencies.”
    Mr. Mason looked oddly stricken. He said in a dazed voice, “But really, you know, spying these days is not bloody at all, Mrs.—Mrs.—”
    “Pollifax,” she reminded him. “I’m terribly relieved to hear that, Mr. Mason. But still I hoped that you might find use for someone—someone expendable, you know—if only to preserve the lives of your younger, better-trained people. I don’t mean to sound melodramatic, but I am quite prepared to offer you my life or I would not have come.”
    Mr. Mason looked shocked. “But Mrs. Politick,” he protested, “this is simply not the way in which spies are recruited. Not at
all
. I appreciate the spirit in which you—”
    “Then how?” asked Mrs. Pollifax reasonably. “Where do I present myself?”
    “It’s—well, it’s not a matter of
presenting
oneself, it’s a matter of your country looking for
you
.”
    Mrs. Pollifax’s glance was gently reproving. “That’s all very well,” she said, “but how on earth could my country find me in New Brunswick, New Jersey? And have they tried?”
    Mr. Mason looked wan. “No, I don’t suppose—”
    “There, you see?”
    Someone tapped on the door and a young woman appeared, smiled at them both and said, “Mr. Mason, I’m sorry to interrupt, but there’s an urgent telephone call for you in your office. It’s Miss Webster.”
    “Miss Webster,” murmured Mr. Mason dazedly, and then, “Good heavens yes, Miss Webster. Where
is
Miss