She said, very demurely, “I think I will.”
I handed her the bus schedule. “I’ll be out of town today. Miss Wells,” I said very importantly. “If anyone wants to see me, I’m in conference.”
“Yes, sir. And if any more letters come in, what shall I do?”
“There won’t be any more.”
“You wouldn’t want to bet on it, would you?”
“I might.”
“A pair of silk stockings?”
“Against what?”
“Anything you want. I’m betting on a cinch.”
I said, “It’s a bet. I want to see what’s in the letter. I have to have a residence address, you know, or I can’t fill orders.”