Why? I asked Jean. What was the difference between the amateurs and the professionals?
"Money," she said, and looked at me strangely. "Didn't you really know that?"
I lied with a nod. "I wanted you to see it, and to word it for yourself."
"Look," she said with controlled irritation, "if I want any curbstone philosophy, I can read one of those corny columnists. I certainly don't have to sit in a screaming mob watching a couple of morons pound each other bloody to arrive at a stupid generality like that."
"Let's get a hamburger," I said.
She just stood there, on the sidewalk. "You—you—"
People were turning to stare.
"Farmer?" I suggested.
"Oh," she said, "oh, oh—"
"Or a cheeseburger," I added.