She had curly bobbed hair, and a face that would have been comely but for the powder and rouge.

She was chewing gum, and she ogled Lane.
"I want to see Mr.Manton," Lane said.
"What name, please." "Daren Lane." She tripped off toward the door leading to Manton's private offices, and Lane's gaze, curiously following her, found her costume to be startling even to his expectant eyes.

Then she disappeared.

Lane's gaze sought the corner and desk that once upon a time had been his.

A blond young lady, also with bobbed hair, was operating a typewriter at his desk.