{"product_id":"2940013775947","title":"Grey Shapes","description":"A little pile of opened letters, with their neatly-slit envelopes\u003cbr\u003epinned to them, lay beside the typewriter on the desk: the girl who\u003cbr\u003esat back from the desk in her comfortable chair, reading a novel, was\u003cbr\u003etall, but not too tall; she had piquantly irregular features, brown\u003cbr\u003ehair with reddish shades in it, and deep, blue eyes, long-lashed. Her\u003cbr\u003eprincipal attraction was expressiveness, both of eyes and lips, though\u003cbr\u003eshe could render her face as wooden as a doorpost if she chose.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe put the novel down on the desk as a tall, youngish man, with\u003cbr\u003eexceptionally large feet and hands, came into the doorway of the room\u003cbr\u003eand, paused for a moment, reflected as he always did when he first saw\u003cbr\u003eher for the day that he had been wise in his choice of a secretary. He\u003cbr\u003elooked ungainly, at a first glance, by reason of those feet and hands,\u003cbr\u003ebut a second glance would convince anyone that he was nothing of the\u003cbr\u003esort. Clean-shaven, pleasantly ugly, he gave the girl a smile as she\u003cbr\u003elooked up at him.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Morning, Miss Brandon,\" he said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Good morning, Mr. Green,\" she answered. \"There are--yes, twenty-\u003cbr\u003etwo inquiries, none of them very interesting.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"We'd better get an editorial regrets done, I think,\" he said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe looked a question at him, and he explained:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"You know. Not--'the editor regrets'--in our case, but the same\u003cbr\u003esort of thing. 'Messrs. Gees have given careful consideration to your\u003cbr\u003ecase as stated in your letter, and regret they are unable to offer any\u003cbr\u003eadvice.' Something like that--get it engraved in copperplate and run\u003cbr\u003eon to decent paper. It'll save you answering each one individually.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"But I've so little to do, as it is,\" she pointed out.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I know,\" he assented gravely. \"It's growing into weeks since we\u003cbr\u003ewound up the Kestwell case, and I put the balance of that twelve\u003cbr\u003ethousand pounds away in the safe. And we've spent over two of the\u003cbr\u003etwelve thousand already, including my new car.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"We?\" she queried stiffly.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Well, I saw you putting a new typewriter ribbon on a couple of\u003cbr\u003edays ago,\" he said, \"and I suppose you paid the window cleaner. I\u003cbr\u003edidn't.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe telephone bell rang before she could reply. She removed the\u003cbr\u003ereceiver and listened, and then replied:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Yes, I should think eleven o'clock would be all right. Will you\u003cbr\u003ehold on while I ask one of the principals?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWith her hand over the mouthpiece she looked up at Green--or Gees,\u003cbr\u003eas his intimate friends always called him:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"A Mr. Tyrrell from Cumberland is in London--his letter is among\u003cbr\u003ethose on the desk--and wants to see you at eleven o'clock, Mr. Green.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Okay by me,\" he answered. \"Tell him I also yearn.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Yes, Mr. Tyrrell\"--she spoke into the receiver--\"our Mr. Green\u003cbr\u003ewill be pleased to see you at eleven o'clock.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe replaced the receiver, and turned over several of the letters,\u003cbr\u003eeventually picking out one which she handed to Gees.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Yes,\" he said, \"it will be as well to see what he wants before he\u003cbr\u003egets here, and there's half an hour to go. I hope the poke contains a\u003cbr\u003ereal pig--we get so many silly inquiries.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe glanced at the sheet of paper. Pinned at the top left-hand\u003cbr\u003ecorner was a small clipping, evidently from some agony column. It\u003cbr\u003eread--\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Consult GEE'S CONFIDENTIAL AGENCY for everything, from mumps to\u003cbr\u003emurder. Initial consultation, two guineas--37, Little Oakfield Street,\u003cbr\u003eHaymarket, London, S.W.I.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Ah,\" Gees observed complacently. \"Our old 'mumps to murder' is\u003cbr\u003estill pulling 'em in, then, even from the wilds of Cumberland. But--\u003cbr\u003eOh! What the--? Am I a goat? The man's daft!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"He enclosed a check for two guineas,\" Miss Brandon remarked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Yes, I said he was daft, didn't I? Sheep? Does he think we're a\u003cbr\u003eveterinary establishment, or a dumb friends' league?\"","brand":"WDS Publishing","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":47175246217456,"sku":"2940013775947","price":2.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0737\/7593\/9824\/files\/2940013775947_p0.jpg?v=1763590092","url":"https:\/\/shop-qa.barnesandnoble.com\/products\/2940013775947","provider":"Barnes \u0026 Noble (DEV)","version":"1.0","type":"link"}