“Mr. Robson!”
“Well?”
“Them stamps—”
“What would the blue pencil do to a sentence beginning that way, Buddy?”
“Those stamps—it’s like I told the fresh guy at the window.”
“They’re for the circulation department?”
“No, sir. But they’re for circulation all right. I been sendin’ the paper every day to Hamburg.”
Jeremy’s pulses quickened. “Your own idea, Buddy?”
“Nope. I’m sendin’ it to Her. It ’s Her idear. She reads it reg’lar. She’s deeply int’rusted in my cay-reer.”
“Where did you get that? It doesn’t sound like Her.”