 Why did Orison prefer to send her reports to Washington by mail?
Mr. Wanji returned to Orison her letters of reference. "That will be most satisfactory, Mr. Wanji," Orison said. The uniformed operator nodded to Mr. Wanji, bowed slightly to Orison. "Yes, sir," Orison said. "Yes, sir," Orison said. "Yes, sir," Orison said. This laissez-faire policy of Taft Bank's might explain why she'd been selected from the Treasury Department's secretarial pool to apply for work here, she thought. Orison McCall, girl Government spy. She picked up the newspaper from the "In" basket, unfolded it to discover the day's Wall Street Journal , and began at the top of column one to read it aloud. By lunchtime Orison had finished the Wall Street Journal and had begun reading a book an earmuffed page had brought her. Reading this peculiar fare into the microphone before her, Miss McCall was more certain than ever that the Taft Bank was, as her boss in Washington had told her, the front for some highly irregular goings-on. An odd business for a Federal Mata Hari, Orison thought, reading a nonsense story into a microphone for an invisible audience. Orison switched off her microphone at noon, marked her place in the book and took the elevator down to the ground floor. As though they were members of a ballet-troupe, these gentlemen whipped off their hats with a single motion as Orison stepped aboard the elevator. Girls from the ground-floor offices of Taft Bank chattered together, eyed Orison with the coolness due so attractive a competitor, and favored her with no gambit to enter their conversations. Orison sighed, finished her tuna salad on whole-wheat, then went back upstairs to her lonely desk and her microphone. She switched off the microphone, put on her light coat, and rode downstairs in an elevator filled with earmuffed, silent, hat-clasping gentlemen. Her boss in Washington had told her that this job of hers, spying on Taft Bank from within, might prove dangerous. Home in her apartment, Orison set the notes of her first day's observations in order. Presumably Washington would call tonight for her initial report. Item: she was being employed at a very respectable salary to read newsprint and nonsense into a microphone. Washington should be calling soon, inquiring after the results of her first day's spying. Orison slipped between the sheets at eleven-thirty. Orison transferred her head to the pillow to her left. "Of a sort," Monitor J-12 agreed.
 She found the “pillow talk” to be improper.
 She preferred to put everything in writing.  She found the “pillow talk” to be improper.  So the reports could be done faster.  So the reports would be more secure.