“Well, well,” he said, stretching out his hand, “and very nice too!”
She kept her distance and inclined her head. She knew Caston.
“Now, Marie, don’t be high hat. Come over here and let me look at you,” he said, still keeping his hand out.
“You can see me just as well here, Mr. Caston,” she said. “Did you want anything?”
Caston withdrew his hand and fiddled with a pencil. His pink face lost a little of its brightness. “Sit down,”
he said, “I want to talk to you.”
Marie sat down, carefully adjusting her skirt as she did so. Caston leant a little forward and watched the operation with considerable interest. He considered any girl with a nice pair of legs should show them at every possible occasion.
“That’s the beginning of a ladder you’re getting there,” he said. He leant forward, staring at her leg with fixed concentration.
Marie bent forward to investigate. She could see nothing wrong with the faultless silken hose.
“Look, just there, a little higher up. Too bad with socks as expensive as those.”