6
A BIT OF A HANDFUL
Recoiling with a nervous start at the identical version that faced him, Arthur clumsily upset the flowers on her desk, and she politely helped him to replace them before resuming her seat and raising her eyebrows invitingly. “Well then, how can I help, sir?”
He coughed and made an effort. “I’m sorry… I thought for a moment… excuse me for asking, but um… do you ever get mistaken for anyone else?”
She laughed amusedly. “Not very often, sir… except…” Her face sharpened with interest. “I do sometimes get compared with,” she hesitated, “with another member of my family. Why do you ask?”
“It’s just that I happen to know someone who looks very much like you…”
He trailed off and tried to change the subject with a weak laugh that sounded like a croak. “But in your job, I
