"Oh," the girl said. "Oh."
"But you can call me Ken," Malone said.
"All right—Ken," she said. "And you call me Dorothy."
"Sure," he said. He tried it out. "Dorothy." It felt swell.
"Well—" she said after a second.
"Oh," Malone said. "Were you looking for a detective? Because if I can help in any way—"
"Not exactly," Dorothy said. "Just a little routine business. I'll go on in and—"
Malone suddenly found himself talking without having any idea why he'd started, or what he was going to say. At first he said: "Urr," as if the machine were warming up, and this stopped Dorothy and caused her to give him a rather sharp, baffled stare. Then he found some words and used them hurriedly, before they got away.
"Dorothy," he said, "would you like to take in a show this evening? I think I can get tickets to ... well, I guess I could get tickets to almost anything, if I really tried." His expression attempted to leave no doubt that he would really try.
Dorothy appeared to consider for a moment. "Well," she said at last, "how about 'The Hot Seat'?"