Lost some weight too, since you're asking. How about you?" She looked at me, and I thought I read sympathy in her look. Just what I fucking needed! ...I'm okay. Job's good. Harlan, I really came by for a reason, if that's all right. Could we go inside?" she said. I motioned her to follow me. "Just moved in, not too long back," I said. "But the place is clean if still a bit unorganized." I looked her up and down. She looked good, real good. I said so. "You look terrific." "Thank you, Harlan.. As he left his office he looked over to his right where there was a large open plan area of desks. Pederson was, as usual, at the front desk. He was always struck by the misfortune that Pederson was the first employee the public saw on this floor, with his straight bangs, dumpling face and soft build. A good worker but not a good image. He couldn’t even remember Pederson’s first name. A defect in his character that he should attend to.At the bottom of the wide curved stairway to the lobby was. "Monsieur Freddie Clegg?"Clegg, wary as ever at being approached by the police, held out his hand and nodded slowly. The Frenchman shook it warmly took one step back and saluted. "Captain Renault," he announced. "Louis Renault. At your service."Clegg understood at once. He'd heard about Renault from Ferrari in Casablanca.According to Ferrari, Lazlo and Ilsa had turned up in Casablanca. There had been some fuss about letters of transit to allow them to leave. Strasser had been there too, looking. "Oh my goodness David, your shoulders!" she finally exclaimed. "You've caught the sun quite badly." Does feel a bit sore Aunty," I said wincing."You can call me Miriam, when it's just us," she said. "Now let me get some cream for you."She bustled off into another room to get whatever it was she was after. I tried to get my top off, as my shoulders were now aching and burning, leaving me struggling to manage."Let me get that for you, David," Miriam said when she returned. "I think you're going.