“You explained to Bertha about the work?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
“It’s all right.”
“Then I’m to sit here and just read magazines?”
“That’s right. Do a little sewing if you want to. Smoke cigarettes during office hours, and chew gum. That’s the sort of business this is, one of those happy-go-lucky affairs.”
She laughed. “I’ll feel like a kept woman.”
“That’s what I want you to look like,” I said. “Get the idea?”
Her eyes flashed me a smile. She said, “Good luck, Donald.”
“Keep your fingers crossed,” I said, and went out to tell Ashbury I was all ready to go. He insisted on driving me over to the garage where Bertha Cool kept the office car. His eyes were wistful as I pulled away into traffic.