“Operator didn’t say, sir. Out at the public booths, sir. Ask for Operator Nine. Thank you, sir.” He pocketed his two bits, vanished.
Walch said, “Might be Nature’s gift to the shemale sex. Maybe he’s passed up the idea of a party, gone home.” He got off his stool.
Edie wriggled in aggravation. “I’m one party he better not pass up.”
When Walch had gone, I gave her the look. “Hi.”
“Hello.” No encouragement.
I moved over one stool. “Remember me, Edie?”
“No.” She was estimating what my suit had cost, how much I’d paid for the Countess Mara tie, so on. I must have come through her coin-biting test all right, for she melted enough to add, “I guess you’ve lost a little weight since I saw you, maybe.”
“What a memory! Only a quarter of an hour ago you were honey-pieing me all over the place!”
She twittered her eyelashes. “Some mistake, lovey-dove.” She glanced apprehensively over her shoulder. “My friend’ll be back in a minute—”
“No mistake. On my part. But about that arrangement with Mister Lanerd—” I shook my head. “That’s sour.”