"I'm not supposed to do this, you know. We're not permitted to give the addresses of any of our people. Against regulations, my dear."
"What about the other five women?"
"They convinced me that I ought to give them his address."
Matilda reached into her pocket-book and withdrew a five dollar bill. "Was this the way?" she demanded. Matilda was not very good at this sort of thing.
The librarian shook her head.
Matilda nodded shrewdly and added a twin brother to the bill in her hand. "Then is this better?"
"That's worse. I wouldn't take your money—"
"Sorry. What then?"
"If I can't enjoy an association with Haron Gorka directly, I still could get the vicarious pleasure of your contact with him. Report to me faithfully and you'll get his address. That's what the other five will do, and with half a dozen of you, I'll get an overall picture. Each one of you will tell me about Haron Gorka, sparing no details. You each have a distinct personality, of course, and it will color each picture considerably. But with six of you reporting, I should receive my share of vicarious enjoyment. Is it—ah—a deal?"
Matilda assured her that it was, and, breathlessly, she wrote down the address. She thanked the librarian and then she went out to her car, whistling to herself.