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secret. If I ever need a letter written, may I stop down here and dictate it?" "Please do," Orison said. Th

was interr

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is bank president, for all his grace and presence, was obviously as kookie as his bank. "Have you ever work

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ed in a bank before, Miss McCall?" Mr. Gerding asked, as though following her train of thought. "No, sir,"

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    she said. "Though I've been associated with a rather large financial organization." "You may find some of our methods a little strange, but you'll get used to them," he said. "Meanwhile, I'd be most grateful if you'd dispense with call

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    ing me 'sir.' My name is Dink. It is ridiculous, but I'd enjoy your using it." "Dink?" she asked. "And I suppose you're to call me Orison?" "That's the drill," he said. "One more question, Orison. Dinner this evening?" Direct, she th

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ought. Perhaps that's why he's president of a bank, and still so young. "We've hardly met," she sa

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id. "But we're on a first-name basis already," he pointed out. "Dance?" "I'd love to," Orison sa

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id, half expecting an orchestra to march, playing, from the elevator. "Then I'll pick you up at s

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even. Windsor Arms, if I remember your personnel form correctly." He stood, lean, all bone and muscle, and bowed slightly. West Point? Hardly. His manners were European.

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Sandhurst, perhaps, or Saint Cyr. Was she supposed to reply with a curtsy? Orison

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    wondered. "Thank you," she said. He was a soldier, or had been: the way, when he turned, his shoulders stayed square. The crisp clicking of his steps, a military metronome, to

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    the elevator. When the door slicked open Orison, staring after Dink, saw that each of the half-dozen men aboard snapped off their hats (but not their earmuffs) and bowed, the ear

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    muffed operator bowing with them. Small bows, true; just head-and-neck. But not to her. To Dink Gerding. Orison finished the Wall Street Journal by early afternoon. A page came

  • up a moment later with fresh reading-matter: a copy of yesterday's Congressional Record. She launched into the Record, thinking as she

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  • your work, Miss McCall,
  • read of meeting again this evening that handsome madman, that splendid lunatic, that unlikely bank-president. "You read so well, darl

    " Dink Gerding
  • said. He took the chair
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