There were other questions. Had she a knowledge of office management? No. Of bookkeeping? No. Of foreign languages? She knew French; a little Spanish. Did she understand filing systems? She thought so. Education? There had been two years in college; necessity compelled her to give up the remainder.

The woman behind the desk surveyed her from hat to shoes in a rapid, impersonal glance, then wrote something in another blank space. Mary wildly yearned to know what it was, but checked the impulse to lean forward and see.

"Now, your references, please."

"I have no references."

There was a sudden chill in the manner of the recording angel. She pushed the form-card away from her, so that it teetered perilously on the edge of the desk. If it passed the brink there was nothing to save it from the waste-basket below.

"All registrants must furnish references. Perhaps you did not observe the sign on the wall."

Mary had not seen it, but she now looked at it, apologetically.

"I didn't know," she said. "I'm sorry. But I can explain very easily."

"We never deviate from our rule, Miss Wayne. We[Pg 4] have our reputation to sustain. References are absolutely essential."

[Pg 4]

"But don't you see——"

"It would only waste your time and mine. We recommend no person for employment unless she can furnish at least two references. We even require employers to furnish them, unless they are known to us."

The recording angel was no longer angelic. She was polite, perhaps, yet peremptory. With a little gesture of finality, she tipped the card into the waste-basket. Mary caught her breath, almost desperately. References! Oh, she had heard that word before. A dozen times it had risen to mock her, like a grinning specter.

If asked to spell it, she felt that she would write it thus:

"D-o-o-m."

"But, please—please, let me explain about the references."

"Sorry. It would be quite useless."

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