"You didn't tell me that," I somewhat tremulously reminded him, "when you took me into this office. You took the pains to announce, in fact, that an operative who didn't look like a hen-hawk and dress like a scrub-woman would be of special value to you in your work!"
But argument, before that barbaric method of attack, was out of the question. It was like trying to hold discourse with a hungry grizzly. And my helplessness in the whole thing sent a tidal wave of exasperation through my tingling body.
"But you're too young for all this, Baddie," my sad-eyed ogre of persecution went on. "It's too full of danger for a girl like you!"
"So it seems!" was my bitter retort. But it went from him, like water off a duck's back.
"It's full of risks, my dear, full of risks," he went lumbering on, as though his paternalism with a string to it were the last haven for the storm-tossed heart of youth.
"I think that was the part of it which rather appealed to me," I contended, with a final effort at calmness. "And I don't think I ever complained about its dangers, its honest dangers."
"No, you haven't," admitted the Chief. "And I
