“You are lucky. Not many people have that chance.”
“Lucky. Oh, yes. Very lucky.” Harper rolled the phrases on his tongue.
Lathrop crinkled his nose. “Do you smell anything?” he asked.
Harper took the cigarette from between his lips. “It might be this. It’s not a usual brand.”
Lathrop shook his head. “Couldn’t be. Just caught a whiff. Like something dead.”
Lathrop’s eyes swept the man from head to foot, widened a bit at the alarming whiskers.
“The beard is quite natural, I assure you,” Harper declared.
“I do not doubt it,” Lathrop said. “You should wear a purple tie.”
Without another word, he wheeled and tramped away. Harper watched him go.
“Purple tie!” spat Harper. Hate twisted his face.