I'll Bury My Dead

Harry Vince came into the outer office, and hurriedly shut the door behind him, cutting off the uproar of men's voices, each apparently trying to shout down the other, the sound of raucous laughter and the shuffling of many feet.

"Sounds like a zoo in there, doesn't it? And—phew!— it smells like one, too," he said, as he crossed the room, moving between the empty desks to where Lois Marshall sat at the telephone switchboard. He carried a bottle of champagne and two glasses which he set down carefully on a nearby desk. "You don't know what you're missing, staying out here. You couldn't cut the atmosphere in there with a hacksaw." He mopped his face with his handkerchief. "Mr. English says you are to have some champagne. So here it is."

"I don't think I want any, thank you," Lois said, smiling at him. She was a trim, good-looking girl around twenty-six or seven, dark, with severe eyebrows, steady brown eyes and the minimum of makeup. "I'm not mad about the stuff—are you?"

"Only when someone else pays for it," Vince returned as he expertly broke the wire cage and thumbed over the cork. "Bes ... read full excerpt from: I'll Bury My Dead ebook