“I’m not seeing him.” And Gray was going to be furious about this.

“That’s not what Mrs. Sharpe implies,” Horace pointed out. “You wouldn’t want to let down the American readers. Come, you visited their office weeks ago. We need an update on how oil and vinegar are getting along these days.”

“You’re not going to get one,” she said as she headed toward her station at the far end of the lab. The wheat seeds she’d left half analyzed yesterday still sat in their beakers, waiting to be sorted and measured. “I’d like to get back to work.”

Two more men entered the lab, and oh good heavens, one of them was Mr. Cabrera, the commissioner of agriculture. She didn’t recognize the other, but he wore a bow tie and looked very official. He carried an issue of Good Housekeeping.

“Where’s the lady of the hour?” the second man boomed. A silly question, since she was the only woman in the lab.

“That’s me, sir.” And to think, only a few minutes ago she was worried about how she could ensure the magazine article got attention outside of her immediate lab.

Heat flushed her face, and the man introduced himself as Harvey Wiley, in charge of the bureau of chemistry for the department. That was the office in charge of investigating food purity, and to her relief, Mr. Wiley had the magazine open to the important article on page nine.

“Well done!” he said, giving her a bone-crushing handshake. “It’s been hard for us to get attention in the popular press. No one gets excited over agriculture, but you figured out a way to get Good Housekeeping’s attention, and that will go far in advancing our mission to ensure a pure food supply.”

The commissioner nodded and smiled.

The muscles in Annabelle’s neck began to ease. How gratifying that these two highly placed men understood what was important. She felt even better when the commissioner suggested she start attending some of the department’s meetings on developing pure food and drug proposals.

“I’d be honored,” she stammered.

Mr. Wiley glanced over at her supervisor. “Well, Bryant? Can my committee steal this young lady for a few hours each week?”

Mr. Bryant agreed, and Mr. Wiley walked Annabelle down the hall to show her the office where the chemists met. He gave her the date of their next meeting and a typed agenda of issues to be discussed. How wonderful that Mr. Wiley only discussed the article that would have a lasting impact on the nation’s health and not sensational stories about people’s personal lives.

Just before she left, Mr. Wiley leaned down. “Tell me, are you the oil or the vinegar?”

She put on a brave face. “I’m afraid I’m the laughingstock in this story.”

It was going to be a long time before she lived down Mrs. Sharpe’s article.

Thirty-Two