The attendant leaned down over him, still kneading the flesh of his chest. "How much you got in the bank, Mr. H.?" he asked in a tight whisper.
"I don't see where that's any business of yours," Horner replied in a shocked voice.
"You get a car on time, it's the finance company's business, isn't it? You take out a mortgage, it's the bank's business—right?"
"Yes, but—"
"How much, then?"
"Well, er, six thousand dollars."
"Joint account with your wife?"
"Y-yes."
"Happily married?"
"Now, just a minute!"