The Doctor Who Held Hands

The long envelope inclosed something crisp and firm that immediately suggested bank notes. Madame Storey has taught me to notice such things. The messenger who brought it required a receipt in her own hand. After I had handed him his receipt and returned to my employer's room, I saw the bills scattered on her desk: five smooth, fresh, orange-backed engravings direct from the Federal Reserve Bank, the prettiest pictures on earth. They were thousand-dollar bills, the first I had ever seen. Those five scraps of paper were equivalent to a trip around the world, a high-powered car, or any delightful folly that one might dream about. To me it was a lot of money.

Mme. Storey was reading the letter which had accompanied it. Seeing me goggle at the money, she said airily: "That's only our retaining fee, Bella. There is ten times as much in this case, if we can pull it off. Besides an unlimited expense account."