He glanced around uneasily. “Don’t flash that money so anyone can see it, sir,” he begged. “I wouldn’t like to lose my job.”
I hid the note in my hand, but I let the end show in case he forgot what it looked like.
“Do you talk or do you talk?” I asked pleasantly.
“Well, I know her, sir,” he said. “She’s been here three years, and you get to know them after a while.” He said it as if he hated her guts.
“Nice to you?”
“Maybe she doesn’t mean it, sir,” he said, shrugging.
“You mean she doesn’t kick you in the face because her leg doesn’t stretch that far?”
He nodded.
“What’s her line?” I asked.
His old face sneered. “Tom—he runs the elevator—says she’d flop at the drop of a hat. Perhaps you know what he means. I don’t.”