"You should go back and see Gary," Maggie said. "Beg him to reconsider."

"Never," Tracy said firmly.

"If you don't," Maggie warned, "you'll never find a good job in this town."

"Yes I will," Tracy said.

Tracy was wrong. She searched all that morning and met with the same leering grins and the same kind of propositions that Gary Hudson had made her. She finally had to lower her sights from a good secretarial position.

Her last interview that morning way for a position as a salesperson at a department store. The manager was a fat, ugly man who smoked cigars.

"I think we can use you, Miss Dixon," the manager said.

She went to work at the candy counter that afternoon. It was hard work. The store was hot and the people were always in a hurry. She ran her legs off until four o'clock when the manager called her back into his office.

"You do good work," he said.

"Thank you," she said.

"I think we can find something better for you," he said.

The fat manager stood up and walked around his desk. He put one puffy hand on her knee. He fondled her knee intimately and a leering smile came across his face.

"Now what kind of position do you think you're suited for, Miss Dixon?" he asked.

"Not what you have in mind," she said.

She slapped his hand off her knee and walked out in a huffy storm. She didn't bother to pick up her one day's pay check. It wouldn't have amounted to enough to take home.

She was tired and angry but she tried to put on a good face. She was supposed to stop by and see Maggie before she went back to the apartment. She had hoped to give Maggie good news about her new job. Now all she could give were a few weak excuses.

Maggie was in her office when Tracy arrived. Maggie's official title was private secretary to Henry Parker. Henry Parker was out of town and Maggie had very little to do. She was bent over some papers another secretary had typed when Tracy entered.