“And I’m not exactly perfect. We could eat and talk.”
“What would we talk about?”
“About how a girl, working in a country newspaper office, might make a little extra money.”
“How much extra?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’d have to find out.”
She said, “So would I.”
“How about the dinner?” I asked.
She glanced swiftly over her shoulder towards the partition, and then said, “It’s a date.”
I waited while her pen fairly flew over the receipt blank. “It’ll start day after tomorrow. We’re a weekly now,” she said.
“I know,” I told her. “Shall I call for you here?”