She was frowning thoughtfully as though searching her mental card index.
I watched her closely, said, “I don’t know whether it’s just a habit or whether his teeth don’t fit. Whenever he smiles, he—”
I saw the expression change on her face.
“Oh,” she said and laughed.
“You know who I mean?”
“Yes. How did you happen to come to me?”
I said, “I heard he was in New Orleans and someone said he was going to look you up on a matter of business.”
“But you don’t know his name?”
“No.”
She said, “Archibald Smith is his name. He’s from Chicago. He’s in the insurance business up there.”