“Goodbye!” she said, holding out her hand.
“Goodbye, Miss Milbank, and good luck!” Mrs. Benstead replied.
Aria passed into the outer office. Sitting disconsolately in the chair against the wall was a woman wearing rather fussy over-elaborate clothes. She was a faded blonde and must once have been very pretty. Now she was middle-aged, her chin-line was sagging and her figure thickening.
‘This must be Mrs. Cunningham,’ Aria thought with a pang of pity. And then, because she felt embarrassed at taking a job from an older woman, she passed down the stairs and out into the street.
She had a cheap and solitary luncheon at a small tea shop off Oxford Street. She found her mood alternating between excitement and optimism at the thought of the salary and depression at what might be expected of
