Another secretary might have wished for an updated look to the place where she spent her days, but Lizzy rather liked the fact that Mr. Benton Moseley (Bent, to his friends) hadn’t changed much of anything, except for hanging his own certificates and diplomas beside his father’s and grandfather’s. She felt that the dusty old rooms had a great deal of dignity, with their creaky floors and wood-paneled walls lined with glass-fronted bookshelves and the sepia prints of maps and old documents. The rooms and the books and the documents seemed to her to symbolize all that was established and stable and unchanging and trustworthy about the law. The office implied a much greater security and reliability than the color print of blindfolded Justice that hung beside Mr. Moseley’s desk. Her twin scales and her sword and her blindfold always made Lizzy shiver. If Justice was blind, how in the world could she ever be fair? Didn’t Justice have to peek out from under that blindfold and see who was in trouble and who needed help before she used that sword?

This morning, Lizzy was especially grateful for Moseley and Moseley’s comforting security and stability—and as always, grateful for her job. So many people were out of work these days that steady employment of any kind was simply a blessing. She opened the venetian blinds and raised the windows in the reception room and in Mr. Moseley’s office, letting the cool morning air freshen the rooms and the bright sunshine flood the polished wood floors. She ran the carpet sweeper quickly over the faded oriental-style rug, dusted the old-fashioned wooden furniture, and made a fresh pot of coffee on the gas hot plate.

Then she checked the court calendar and Mr. Moseley’s appointment book and stacked the files he would need in the upper right hand corner of his green desk blotter. He was working on a property matter this morning but leaving around eleven thirty to drive to Montgomery, where he was meeting with the Alabama attorney general to discuss a hush-hush criminal matter. He hadn’t told her what it was, except to say that it involved an income tax case and that if everything worked out, a very important arrest would be made shortly. He seemed to be quite pleased with himself about it.

But all the while Lizzy was doing these housekeeping chores, she was thinking about what Verna had told her—about the stranger who had knocked on her door and the need to get more background on Miss Jamison (if that’s who she really was). Lizzy was the kind of person who normally respected the rules, and under ordinary circumstances, she wouldn’t even consider breaking the office code or violating a client’s confidence. It was tantamount to a betrayal of Mr. Moseley and everything he stood for.