“Come on, let me see. Where’s the book of checks?”
I took out the book. There were three twenty-dollar checks left.
She laughed. “Chicken feed,” she said, “for the expenses you’re carrying. Listen, I want to pay some of this.”
“Not a chance.”
“Don’t kid me. I’m dough-heavy, and I’m going to contribute. Try and stop me.”
She opened her purse, pulled out a roll of bills, peeled off three twenties which she put back in her purse and tossed the balance over to me.
I shook my head.
“All right then, it’s a loan,” she said. “You can pay it back.”
“How much is in there?”
“I don’t know. Three or four hundred dollars. Count it.”