Зима тревоги нашей

           Gottoweighingthemonabalancescale."

           Margiesaid,"Joey,youcan’tresistautobiography."

           "Hell,no,Mrs.Young-Hunt.I’dhavebeenaboutfiveyearsold.It’sastory.Seemsafinestackeddame,Injunbutstacked,cameinandsaid,‘Mygeneral,youhaveexecutedmyhusbandandleftmeapoorwidowwithfivechildren,andisthatanywaytorunapopularrevolution?’"

           "PanchowentoverherassetsthewayI’mdoingnow."

           "Yougotnomortgage,Joey."

           "Iknow.It’sastory.Panchosaidtoanaide-de-camp,‘Weighoutfivekilosofmoneyforher.’"

           "Well,that’squiteabundle.Theytiedittogetherwithapieceofwireandthewomanwentout,danglingthebaleofkale.Thenalieutenantsteppedoutandsalutedandhesaid,‘Mygeneral(theysayitmigral—likehral),wedidnotshootherhusband.Hewasdrunk.Weputhiminthejailaroundthecorner.’

           "Panchohadnevertakenhiseyesoffthedamewalkingawaywiththebundle.Hesaid,‘Gooutandshoothim.Wecannotdisappointthatpoorwidow.’"

           "Joey,you’reimpossible."

           "It’satruestory.Ibelieveit."Heturnedhercheckaround."Doyouwantthisintwenties,fifties,orhundreds?"

           "Giveittomeintwo-bitses."

           Theyenjoyedeachother.

           Mr.Bakerlookedoutofhisfrosted-glassoffice.

           Nowtherewasabet.Bakerhadmadeagrammaticallycorrectbutobscurepassatheronce.Mr.BakerwasMr.Money.Surehehadawife,butMargieknewtheBakersofthisworld.