“How may I help you, Miss…Miss…” I repeated.
She accepted my invitation and slowly sat down, but not before using her left hand to smooth the rear of her dress. Still, without speaking, she pulled an ashtray to the corner of my desk, giving her cigarette a place to rest.
“I’m sorry Miss…Miss…did we have an appointment?” I moved behind the desk and returned to my chair. “Sometimes I forget, and sometimes my secretary forgets to remind me of these things. It’s really not a problem, so please tell me how I may be of service?”
Without responding, she began removing her long white gloves one finger at a time – first, the left then the right, revealing silky smooth hands with long nails and shiny red polish. Then she neatly folded both gloves and placed them across her lap, giving me a chance to catch my breath and take…
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