"My devotion you'll always own," Wilbur murmured.
"On such short acquaintance?" the girl smiled.
Wilbur turned pink, then red. He wanted to tell her he hadn't meant it that way, and he found himself wishing he had. She was the kind of girl he sometimes dreamed about, tall and not too thin, with golden hair and gray eyes in which flecks of color danced.
"I meant my mother," Wilbur managed at last.
"How sweet. Now would you mind getting out of my way?"
Wilbur looked down and found that he had somehow managed to walk from the elevator to his office without knowing it. He had his hand on the doorknob.
"I beg your pardon," he mumbled, and flung the door open in what he hoped was a gallant gesture.
There was a crash as the door swung inward for a few feet and stopped. The crash was immediately followed by a howl of pain. A moment later Pete Bellows' flushed and furious face came around the side of the door. He was rubbing his head.
"Mook, you idiot!" Bellows roared. "I ought to punch your nose for this!"