back to Victoria.

- Oh! ... Please come through. Just a minute, I’ll just get to the shelf of the clients, ”he said, pulling a huge book from the shelf,“ Here everyone I’m selling boots to is marked, ”he opened the first page,

- Since 1989, that's when my previous book ended. Already six years.

- True? - Victoria said, without thinking about his words.

She examined the alcove: shelves, lined with boxes, books, various brushes, shoe creams and other things to care for shoes, and could not hide a slight disappointment. But there was something else: a large wallboard for notes, completely covered with pencil sketches, very skillfully executed. These were sketches of various boots made at different times. Around the bristling sets of sheets written in pencil. Victoria's expression changed.

- These are my ideas, miss. If a client has a special order, then sometimes I ask her to tell me what she would like to receive, and while she says, I try to draw it.

- Yes? - said Victoria, not listening to him.

Her attention was riveted on one outline on the board. It was not a sketch of a boot. Probably, Mr. Keen tried to come up with a logo or a monogram: eagle wings, stars and Maltese crosses in various combinations with letters, which, obviously, were an attempt to encrypt a word. The letter “D” was constantly repeated, which was larger than other letters.

- What is it? - asked Victoria.

Mr. Keane looked at the sketch that she pointed to:

- Oh, that! This is at the request of Mrs. Gardner.

- Who is it?

“One of my best clients, miss.” Moreover, she is my friend. I have just finished working on one special order for her, ”Mr. Keane explained proudly,“ I hope she will be pleased with him, ”he added in another, humble tone.

- Why? - turned to him Victoria.

“You see, I completed her special order a few months ago, and we had some trouble with him.”

- Trouble?

- It's a long story.

“I ask you to tell her,” exclaimed Victoria, “After all, I have time to listen to her while I wait for my shoes, don't I?” If I missed dinner and am late for the reception, then at least tell me an interesting story.

Mr. Keane shook his head.

- This story is not suitable to become an occasion for gossip.

Victoria was going to beg Mr. Keen to tell her and was ready to swear to promise no one to tell her, but suddenly another thought occurred to her.

“You don't want what you want,” she said coldly.

Turning away from him, Victoria came out of the alcove and sat down in a chair that stood in the exhibition room.

Mr Keane hurried after her:

- Please do not be offended, missy

Victoria was silent. She put her bare arms on the upholstered arms of the chair and leaned back. She threw one leg over the other and wiggled her legs in her boots so that the tops of her leg slightly patted her ankles. She stared up at Mr. Keen, and in the silence they met, until he looked down, but on her boots. She moved her legs again, and on the smooth shiny rubber surface the reflected light played. Finally she uttered:

“I really want you to tell me a story about Mrs. Gardner and her unusual order.” I insist on it. I order you to tell me everything.

On the last words, her voice became harsh, her gray eyes became steel, her lips tightened. Mr. Keane’s lips, on the other hand, suddenly trembled:

- If you insist so, Miss Martinsi

- Yes, I insist! Spread everything and quickly, Victoria demanded, putting her foot back onto the soft carpet with a light knock and at the same time with her consciousness for the first time used by her new, unusual strength.

“I had difficulties with the delivery of finished shoes,” Mr. Keen began, “One of the services of the House of Shoes is the ability to deliver our boots to any given address. At first, I delivered orders myself, driving huge distances in the evenings with three or four orders in the backseat of my car: each pair of boots was packed in a beautiful box, everything was done to make the ladies happy

- Lady? - asked Victoria.

“I treat all my customers as a lady,” Mr. Keen explained, “Although for many years my high society women also bought my boots.”

- As I told you, as time went on, I received more and more orders, and I wanted the workshop to be open around the clock, and I began to get tired of traveling. In addition, for the prestige of the company it would be good to have your courier delivering orders - a good car, a handsome young man. I did not think about putting it on in a special uniform, ”he remarked, as if Victoria had asked about it,“ In my opinion, a really well-made business suit would be more suitable for a courier. It seems to me that ladies prefer men to dress like this

In the eyes of Victoria, an expression of boredom appeared. Her face stretched out and her mouth opened wide, giving her an opportunity to see her throat. She yawned loudly.

“If you don't mind, Mr. Keane,” she said, still yawning, “get to the point.”

When she said this, she was surprised and frightened of herself, surprised at her indecent behavior and frightened of her insolent voice. Or maybe she enjoyed her arrogance? Be that as it may, Mr. Keane was not offended. On the contrary, he continued his story with an ingratiating voice, asking for the listener's condescension:

“I have already performed unusual orders for Mrs. Gardner many times, and when I finished the order you saw, I hired a new courier. His name was Roy, Roy Everett. As it turned out, he had a girl named Angela.

*********************

- Come on, Roy! Let me just look at them. Just one time!

Roy was not distracted from the road, but he knew that Angela turned around in her chair and was looking at the back seat of the car.

“No,” he said, gritting his teeth, “How many times can you talk ...?”

“I’ll open them for just a minute,” Angela grew more insistent, “I’ll only see.” If you do not allow, then I will not even touch them.

- Well, please, Roy! - The tone of her voice has changed again, becoming almost appealing instead of aggressively angry, - What will happen to such a terrible thing?

- It won't end well.

- Yes, who knows? - Angela, apparently tired of arguing and she turned to decisive action. She was already kneeling, leaning over the back of her chair. Angela never bothered to fasten the seat belt, and now she has completely hung in the backseat. Her ass, tightly wrapped in white shorts, practically touched the roof of the car. Holding out both hands, she grabbed a large cardboard box that lay at the back.

- Put it on it's place! Shouted Roy.

Angela had already lifted the box and after a moment she would have already been lying on her lap, but Roy slammed on the brake. Under the screeching of wheels, the car stopped dead in the middle of the road. Angela could not resist and flew off the seat, hitting her back on the front panel.

- Roy! - there was her cry.