Peter Ruff and the Double Four HTML version
I.3. Vincent Cawdor, Commission Agent
For the second time since their new association, Peter Ruff had surprised that
look upon his secretary's face. This time he wheeled around in his chair and
"My dear Violet," he said, "be frank with me. What is wrong?"
Miss Brown turned to face her employer. Save for a greater demureness of
expression and the extreme simplicity of her attire, she had changed very little
since she had given up her life of comparative luxury to become Peter Ruff's
secretary. There was a sort of personal elegance which clung to her,
notwithstanding her strenuous attempts to dress for her part, except for which
she looked precisely as a private secretary and typist should look. She even
wore a black bow at the back of her hair.
"I have not complained, have I?" she asked.
"Do not waste time," Peter Ruff said, coldly. "Proceed."
"I have not enough to do," she said. "I do not understand why you refuse so
Peter Ruff nodded.
"I did not bring my talents into this business," he said, "to watch flirting wives, to
ascertain the haunts of gay husbands, or to detect the pilferings of servants."
"Anything is better than sitting still," she protested.
"I do not agree with you," Peter Ruff said. "I like sitting still very much indeed -
one has time to think. Is there anything else?"
"Shall I really go on?" she asked.