hospital work. Why would I recommend you ahead of any of them? Some of those girls are PhDs and ScDs from UCLA and other places. Here’s a whole file of stenographers that are expert bookkeepers. Any one of them could take charge of all the office work for a small firm, and still have time for a little sleeping. Here are sales people, men and women, every oneof them with an A1 reference – they can really move goods. They’re all laid off, there’s no goods moving, but I don’t see how I could put you ahead of them. And here’s the preferred list. Look at it, a whole drawerful, men and women, every one of them a real executive, or auditor, or manager of some business, and when I recommend one, I know somebody is getting something for his money. They’re all home, sitting by their phones, hoping I’ll call. I won’t call. I’ve got nothing to tell them. What I’m trying to get through your head is: You haven’t got a chance. Those people, it hurts me, it makes me lie awake nights, that I’ve got nothing for them. They deserve something, and there’s not a thing I can do. But there’s not a chance I’d slip you ahead of any one of them. You’re not qualified. There’s not a thing on earth you can do, and I hate people that can’t do anything.’
‘How do I qualify?’
Mildred’s lips were fluttering again, the way they had in Miss Boole’s office. Miss Turner looked quickly away, then said: ‘Can I make a suggestion?’
‘You certainly can.’
‘I wouldn’t call you a raving beauty, but you’ve got an A1 shape and you say you cook fine and sleep fine. Why don’t you forget about a job, hook yourself a man, and get married again?’
‘I tried that.’
‘Didn’t work?’
‘I don’t seem to be able to kid you much. It was the first thing I thought of, and just for a little while I seemed to be doing all right. But then, I guess two little children disqualified me, even there. That wasn’t what he said, but—’
‘Hey, hey, you’re breaking my heart.’
‘I didn’t know you had a heart.’
‘Neither did I.’
The cold logic of Miss Turner’s harangue reached Mildred’s bowels, where the tramping, waiting, and hoping of the last few weeks hadn’t. She went home, collapsed, and wept for an hour. But next day she doggedly registered at three more agencies. She took to doing desperate things, like turning suddenly into business places, as she was passing them on the street, and askingfor an opening. One day she entered an office building and, beginning at the top floor, called on every firm, in only two places getting past the gate. All the time the thought of July 1st haunted her, and she got weaker, paler, and tackier-looking. The print dress was pressed so many times that she searched the seams anxiously every time she put the iron on it. She lived on oatmeal and bread, reserving for the children such eggs, chicken, and milk as she could buy.
One morning, to her surprise, there came a card from Miss Turner, asking her to call. She dressed in about four minutes, caught the nine o’clock bus, and was in the familiar little office by nine-thirty. Miss Turner waved her to a seat. ‘Something’s come up, so I dropped you that card.’
‘What is it?’
‘Housekeeper.’
‘. . . Oh.’
‘It’s not what you think, so don’t employ that tone of voice. I mean, there’s no sleeping in it, so far as I know. And it means nothing to me. I don’t handle domestic help, so I won’t collect a dime. But I was over in Beverly the other night, and got talking with a lady that’s going to marry a director, and he doesn’t know it yet, but his house is due for a big shake-up. So she wants a housekeeper. So, on account of all that fine domestic efficiency you were telling me about, I told her about you, and I think it’s yours if you want it. Children OK. You’ll have your own quarters, and I think you can nick her for one-fifty if you get tough, but you’d better ask for two
‘How do I qualify?’
Mildred’s lips were fluttering again, the way they had in Miss Boole’s office. Miss Turner looked quickly away, then said: ‘Can I make a suggestion?’
‘You certainly can.’
‘I wouldn’t call you a raving beauty, but you’ve got an A1 shape and you say you cook fine and sleep fine. Why don’t you forget about a job, hook yourself a man, and get married again?’
‘I tried that.’
‘Didn’t work?’
‘I don’t seem to be able to kid you much. It was the first thing I thought of, and just for a little while I seemed to be doing all right. But then, I guess two little children disqualified me, even there. That wasn’t what he said, but—’
‘Hey, hey, you’re breaking my heart.’
‘I didn’t know you had a heart.’
‘Neither did I.’
The cold logic of Miss Turner’s harangue reached Mildred’s bowels, where the tramping, waiting, and hoping of the last few weeks hadn’t. She went home, collapsed, and wept for an hour. But next day she doggedly registered at three more agencies. She took to doing desperate things, like turning suddenly into business places, as she was passing them on the street, and askingfor an opening. One day she entered an office building and, beginning at the top floor, called on every firm, in only two places getting past the gate. All the time the thought of July 1st haunted her, and she got weaker, paler, and tackier-looking. The print dress was pressed so many times that she searched the seams anxiously every time she put the iron on it. She lived on oatmeal and bread, reserving for the children such eggs, chicken, and milk as she could buy.
One morning, to her surprise, there came a card from Miss Turner, asking her to call. She dressed in about four minutes, caught the nine o’clock bus, and was in the familiar little office by nine-thirty. Miss Turner waved her to a seat. ‘Something’s come up, so I dropped you that card.’
‘What is it?’
‘Housekeeper.’
‘. . . Oh.’
‘It’s not what you think, so don’t employ that tone of voice. I mean, there’s no sleeping in it, so far as I know. And it means nothing to me. I don’t handle domestic help, so I won’t collect a dime. But I was over in Beverly the other night, and got talking with a lady that’s going to marry a director, and he doesn’t know it yet, but his house is due for a big shake-up. So she wants a housekeeper. So, on account of all that fine domestic efficiency you were telling me about, I told her about you, and I think it’s yours if you want it. Children OK. You’ll have your own quarters, and I think you can nick her for one-fifty if you get tough, but you’d better ask for two
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