Blake’s eyes narrowed a trifle.
“I’ll take you,” he answered. “What’s your proof?”
“I sent her that stuff myself.”
“You? Holy smoke, that’s going some!”
“I sent her that to pay for some typewriting she did for me and because I knew she wouldn’t take any money.”
“I lose. Come out and have a drink?”
“Thanks,” answered Don. “I’m on my way uptown. Give that quarter to Eddie.”