Back in the intern cubicle, the walls look like they're shifting. She
sits at her desk and grasps the mouse to the right of her computer
monitor, checking her e-mail. No new messages, she sees, and shuts the
account again quickly, before she mass-mails some incriminating message
to the entire office - I have never in my life seen so much mediocrity amassed under one roof, or perhaps, Working with all of you is like dying a very slow death
- or, even worse, before she dashes off a declaration of love to Henry.
- p. 103
- p. 103
