"You should ask if I can work overtime. Or are you asking me to a nightclub."
George Smith taking his desultory fountain pen lately bought of a vending machine. Miss Tomson lifting eye brows and lids.
"I hurt your feelings, Smith."
"Not at all."
"Yes I did. God Smith. You're so vulnerable."
"Miss Tomson I'll let you know when I need the care of an institution."
"You do that."
"Can you come to my apartment with paper and pencils tonight."
"Sure."
The tall blondness of Miss Tomson's smiles. Her calves strong and long, often turning so airily this way and that, a blue neat vein trembling at the ankle bone. She would make a housewife in whose hands the dishes might melt. Face framed in the kitchen window looking out over the sink across the lawns, every exquisite strand of hair gold and priceless.
"What time, Mr. Smith."
"Seven. I'm leaving at four for an early workout at the club."
"How's the condition. Learn to fight yet."
"I can handle myself Miss Tomson. Would you put this letter in the file."
"Hey, this is good. They're not saying anything. Yet. Pretty good approach."
Smith watching this tall creature go out beyond the frosted glass. No muscles in her arms at all. Holding the letter and triggering off her index finger rapping it three times, she said it was a test for the quality of die paper. Her underlying nature changed daily. The first time I saw her strut into the office a little chilled and blue at the neck in a collarless black slim coat, dressed for spring. She carried a newspaper and with that finger stood in front of my desk pointing it out to me.
"Are you Air. Smith put this ad in."
"Yes."
"I want the job."
"Won't you sit down."
"Sure."
"Well Miss-"
"Tomson. Sally Tomson."
"Miss Tomson I suppose you do all the usual things."
"I can type. And I can work. Hard, too. Even though I come from the South. I've got a brother who's a socialite. His picture gets in the paper if that's a help. I can do what you want me to do. With reservations, of course."
"Of course."
"This pay isn't bad. I'd only do this work for this pay."
"I see."
"Do you want me."
"You're the first applicant I've seen."
"Do you want me."
"Can I have some time to think it over."
"Sure, I'll go outside for a minute."
"Look Miss Tomson, before you do, would you mind just answering me one question."
"Sure, shoot."
"If I were to hire you, is the behaviour I'm seeing now the natural, everyday behaviour I can expect to get from you here in the office."
"It'll vary. But I'll be an office girl. Whatever you hire me for."
"All right, no need to go outside for a minute. You're hired. I think you're a sympathetic person."
'Don't get me wrong, I'm easy come easy go. But."
And that morning Smith regathering the voice which had been swallowed down following the guilty quiver, bringing it back up the dry throat with a clearing noise.
"Start Monday. Ten to five. I don't like to rush the day. Hour for lunch. Your desk is the one outside the door. And I'll introduce you to Miss Martin. Don't mind my asking do you, are those fingernails real."
"Yesh. I grew them that way. And by the way I better tell you now I say y e s, yesh. Said it that way right from the time I began saying it. Some people get the idea I'm trying to be coy."
"O.K. Miss Tomson, it's all right with me. Look forward seeing you Monday."
"Yesh."
So when Monday came. Miss Tomson came. But with an elk hound which she tied to the desk. I came in. Saw the animal. A man killer for sure. Miss Tomson said good morning in true secretary fashion and I simply did not have the words ready to deal with the situation. Especially the inhuman growl and lurchment of Miss Tom-son's desk in my direction to which the vast creature lay tethered. I nipped back behind the frosted glass of my office for a moment's refreshment, picked up a letter which lay waiting and which put my bowels in a further state and my hand through what I thought would be soon thinning hair. Gingerly out again to say something like a foolish remark. Does it bark and what does it eat Miss Tomson. Whoosh. Clack. Those were the teeth. This animal again tried to get me. As the pleasantry failed and I made it back again behind the vulnerable glass. From where I