She admires old shelves filled with even older books. She can’t believe she’s in. Admission to the reading room is a privilege, bestowed exclusively on the brightest young lawyers.
‘It’s quite hot, isn’t it?’
She’s whispering – anything above a hushed voice would seem out of order. The senior parter chuckles. Loudly.
‘This is nothing. Wait until you get access to the lower levels. It’s hot there.’
She didn’t know about the lower levels.
‘Is the ceiling flickering?’
Her companion chuckles again.
‘You signed without reading the contract?’
‘Well, you signed. Once you’re in, there is no getting out.’