"Will you join us, Mr. Tesno?" she said. "We're having duck."
Silverware and stemmed goblets glistened on a snow-white tablecloth. Red wine sparkled in the goblets. The duck looked delicious.
"Thanks," Tesno said, "but this is a business call, Mrs. Parker. I'm sorry to interrupt...."
"You haven't had dinner; I can sense it. Sit down, Mr. Tesno."
Persia Parker smiled deliciously, and he sat down. Stella immediately set a place for him. He grinned and said, "You have a sixth sense, Mrs. Parker."
"At breakfast and lunch I just grab and gulp," she said, "so I like to make a little ceremony of the evening meal. So it's a treat to have a guest—oh, Sam doesn't count."
Thin-haired, hunch-shouldered Sam Lester looked up from his plate. He wore shot-glass-thick lenses that hid his eyes and gave his face a froglike placidity.
"She feeds me," he said. He put down his fork and reached for a wine bottle. Persia shook her head in refusal. He filled Tesno's glass and then his own.
"Sam lives above the offices in the other part of the building," Persia said, smiling again.
She had white, even teeth, the complexion of an angel, and hair as pale as Montana gold. Her eyes were a mysterious shade that Tesno couldn't decide about, but they were frank and friendly.