“The Supreme Court of Mexico has given us title to it. We can get you a copy of the decision if you want.”
“But if you have any quantity of silk goods that you received under circumstances such as that, why don’t you bring them up, take them across the border, then sell them to some of the big department stores and—”
I explained patiently, “We can’t do that. Under our license with the government, we have to sell the stockings to individual customers.”
“Your letter didn’t say so.”
“No. It’s a ruling of the F.I.C. We couldn’t bring them into the country otherwise.”
I took a pencil and notebook from my pocket. “Now if you’ll kindly give me the names of any intimate friends to whom you’ll deliver any of these—”
“I want those stockings for my own use. However, I might refer you to a friend who’d take some.”
“That would be fine. Now did you—”
The door from the bedroom opened, and Roberta Fenn came breezing into the room. She’d evidently just finished dressing.
“Hello,” she said. “Are you the stocking man? I was just telling my friend that—”