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"Here's where I need my pluck," she said to herself, not frightened, but wondering at the situation. "I'll go ahead, but I feel like Alice in Wonderland. I know I'll fall into a treacle well."
She traversed half the length of the long building, when she saw a man, writing in one of the small compartments.
He looked up at her, and then, apparently without interest in her presence there, resumed his work.
Patty was a little annoyed at what she thought discourtesy, and said:
"I've come to answer your advertis.e.m.e.nt."
"Fourth floor," said the man, indicating the direction by pointing his penholder across the room, but not looking up.
"Thank you," said Patty, in a tone intended to rebuke his own lack of manners.
But he only went on writing, and she turned to look for the elevator.
She could see none, however, so she walked on, thinking how like a maze was this succession of small rooms and little cross aisles. When she saw another man writing in another coop, she said politely:
"Will you please direct me to the elevator?"
"What?" said the man, looking at her.
Patty repeated her request.
"Ain't none," he said. "Want work?"
Though unpolished, he was not rude, and after a moment's hesitation, Patty said, "Yes, I do."
"Have to hoof it, then. Three flights up; Department G."
"All right," said Patty, whose spirits always rose when she encountered difficulties. She saw the staircase, now; a rough, wooden structure of unplaned boards, and no bal.u.s.ters. But she trudged up the long flight hopefully.
The next floor seemed to be full of whirring looms, and the noise was, as Patty described it afterward, like the buzzing of a billion bees! But, asking no further directions, she ascended the next staircase and the next, until she found herself on the fourth floor.
Several people were bustling about here, all seeming to be very busy and preoccupied.
"Where is Department G?" she inquired of a man hurrying by.
"Ask at the desk," he replied, without pausing.
This was ambiguous, as there were more than a score of desks about, each tenanted by a busy man, more often than not accompanied by a stenographer.
"Oh, dear, what a place!" thought Patty. No one would attend to her wants; no one seemed to notice her. She believed she could stand there all day if she chose, without being spoken to.
Clearly, she must take the initiative.
She saw a pleasant-faced woman at a desk, and decided to address her.
"Where is Department G, please?" she asked.
"G?" said the woman, looking blank.
"Yes, G. The man downstairs told me it was on the fourth floor. Isn't this the fourth floor?"
"Yes, it is."
"Then, where is Department G?"
"G?"
"Yes, _G_!"
"I don't know, I'm sure."
"Who does know?"
"I don't know."
The absurdity of this conversation made Patty smile, which seemed to irritate the other.
"I can't help it if I don't know," she snapped out. "I'm new here, myself; only came yesterday. I don't know where G is, I'm sure."
"Excuse me," said Patty, sorry that she had smiled, and she turned away.
She caught a red-headed boy, as he pa.s.sed, whistling, and said:
"Do _you_ know where Department G is?"
"Sure!" said the boy, grinning at her. "Sashay straight acrost de room.
Pipe de guy wit' de goggles?"
"Thank you," said Patty, restraining her desire to smile at the funny little chap.
She went over to the desk indicated. The man seated there looked at her over his gla.s.ses, and said:
"To embroider?"
"Yes," said Patty.
"Take a chair. Wait a few moments. I'm busy."
Relieved at having reached her goal, Patty sat down in the chair indicated and waited. She waited five minutes and then ten, and then fifteen.
The man was busy; there was no doubt of that. He dashed off memoranda, gave them to messengers, telephoned, whisked drawers open and shut, and seemed to be in a very whirl of business.
As there was no indication of a cessation, Patty grew impatient, at last, and said:
"Can you attend to my business soon? If not, I'll call some other day."