I could see from his expression that news about me had spread with electric speed through the company. I had stopped in the business office and met the head accountant, Mrs. Lovejoy, a woman in her late fifties who looked as if she had absorbed decimal points into her eyes. They were spotted black and gray. She gave me a form to fill out and mechanically explained the company’s pension plan. I sensed that despite Mr. Dolan’s eagerness to hire me, she didn’t believe I would be with the company long enough for anything she said to matter all that much. Afterward, I returned to the office. Mr. Dolan was having a meeting with an attorney named Stan English. From the way Stan had looked at me when he arrived, I had the feeling Mr. Dolan had already told him about me, filling his description with compliments. “If for some reason Ken doesn’t want to keep you on, you call me,” he said, winking. “Control yourself, Stan,” Mr. Dolan told him. “You’ve got three grandchildren.”
