"Well, look who's here. Our new tenderfoot himself." Abby eased gently into the big wine-colored chair.
The man across the room scowled and fiddled with his hands and looked at the floor.
Emmie sighed ever so slightly. "I told them we could handle this assignment ourselves."
The man muttered. "Well. This was an important case."
Abby sniffed delicately. Emmie put her hand up' to her mouth and whispered, "It's all right, Abby. They probably had to give him something to keep him busy. He won't hurt anything."
"Mustn't have professional jealousy, you know," the man added defensively.
Manuscripts: Vol. 9
, Article 5.
Available at: http://digitalcommons.butler.edu/manuscripts/vol9/iss3/5