Monday 22nd February 1937
Mr Reddell placed me in the care of Miss Ewings, an elderly, diminutive, yet brilliant lady. She composes advertisements and rules a dozen typists. I sat with her in a small room warmed by a gas fire. Third floor. Beyond the partition, clatter of typewriters.
I looked at index cards relating to representatives reports.
I looked at index cards relating to representatives reports.
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