Bertha Cool straightened up behind the desk. “All right,” she said crisply. “Speaking of money, what do you want?”
“I want you to find a girl.”
“Who is she?”
“I don’t know her name.”
“What does she look like? Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right,” the blind man said. “Here’s all I know about her. She works within a radius of three blocks from here. It’s a well-paid job. She’s about twenty-five or twenty-six. She’s slender, weighs about a hundred and six or a hundred and seven pounds, and is about five feet four inches tall.”
“How do you know all that?” Bertha asked.
“My ears tell me.”
“Your ears don’t tell you where she works,” Bertha said.
“Oh yes, they do.”