"Guess," said the girl.
"Oh. That's what I was afraid of. Can you keep him there?"
"Don't worry about that," said the girl. "He's growing roots. They swept around him last night, and dusted him off this morning. His appointment was for yesterday, remember?"
"Remember! Of course I remember. Senator Stokes—something about a riot in Boston." He started to flip the switch, then added, "See if you can get Charlie down here with his giz."
He turned back to Pete with a frantic light in his eye. "Good old Pete. Just in time. Just. Eleventh-hour reprieve. Have a drink, have a cigar—do you want my job? It's yours. Just speak up."
"I fail to see," said Pete, "just why you had to drag me all the way from L.A. to have a cigar. I've got work to do."
"Selling movies, right?" said Tommy.
"Check."
"To people who don't want to buy them, right?"
"In a manner of speaking," said Pete testily.