"I have a date with Ann. Or had," he added sourly. He twisted his head toward Gotch as the Colonel's words sunk home. "Last night?"
Gotch disregarded the question. "For what?"
"Supper and dancing at the Blue Door."
"Then?"
"Take her home, if it's any of your damned business," snapped Crag. "I wasn't planning on staying, if that's what you mean."
"I know ... I know, we have you on a chart," Gotch said amiably. "We know every move you've made since you wet your first diapers. Like that curvy little brunette secretary out in San Diego, or that blonde night club warbler you were rushing in Las Vegas." Crag flushed. The Colonel eyed him tolerantly.
"And plenty more," he added. He glanced at Crag's double. "I'm sure your twin will be happy to fill in for you tonight."
"Like hell he will," gritted Crag. The room was quiet for a moment.
"As I said, he'll fill in for you."
Crag grinned crookedly. "Ann won't go for it. She's used to the real article."