I called Harold Fosdick， the attorney， at about<br >r o clock. I thought of him because he was the one my<br >:her had gone to see when I was fourteen or fifteen. I was<br >id that attorneys， like bankers， might quit work early and<br >: Mr. Fosdick would already have gone home.<br >This is Eugenia Calloway，-- I said when his secretary an-<br >red. "I d like to speak to Mr. Fosdick if he s in."<br >Oh， Miss Calloway，" his secretary said， with that special<br >Lething in her voice I was beginning to be accustomed to<br >ring. "He s with a client just now， but I ll have him call<br >k in a short time."<br >[e called back at once. "Eugenia，" he said.<br >le didn t really know me well enough to be calling me<br >~enia. I m almost nineteen years old， and so far as I know<br >:never seen me except for that one visit to his office. But I<br >glad to hear my first name. I d been "Miss Calloway" all<br >， and I was glad to have someone speak to me as though I<br >e a friend or a relation.<br >What can I do for you， Eugenia?"<br >Nothing， maybe，" I said. "I m just calling to ask you about<br >legal rights."<br >
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