"This network has never approved of a blacklist, Mr. Macro, and it never will. If you've come here looking for an official blacklist, you don't know the temper of our organization. However ... I see no reason why the artists investigated by you shouldn't be given plenty of free time to prepare their defense."
Macro looked hard at Audibon. "Then you're prepared to—"
"As good citizens, Mr. Macro, we're not prepared to endorse an official blacklist. That's final. However, I suggest you monitor our network shows. If, in the future, you see any of the people on this list associated in any capacity with any of our shows, you can start a rhubarb. But until then, as good citizens, we very politely tell you to go to hell."
Macro flushed and stared at Audibon. Then, as abruptly, he smiled and nodded. "I think I understand. You have no official blacklist, of course."
"Of course."
Macro stood up. As he closed his portfolio and was about to lock it, he hesitated. Then he withdrew a small slip of paper and consulted it.
"Is there a person named Valentine connected with your network?" he asked.
"Valentine?" Audibon stiffened. "What Valentine?"
"A Miss Gabrielle Valentine. A note here says she might be working in your art department."
"What about Gabrielle Valentine?"