He opened the drawer where I kept cigarettes and took one and lighted it. “How’re sales?” he asked me.
“Oh, fair.”
“Tell me, did Smetsheen, in Minneapolis, pay his account?”
“In full, yesterday. You keep on thinking about the office, Jerry?”
“To tell the truth, not once till just now.”
“Where have you been keeping yourself?”
He smiled. “Moving mostly.” He walked to the door of the room which had been his office and looked in. “Who’s there now?”
“Nobody.”
“Not waiting for me?”