“Well?” asked April Dancer. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know,” her partner replied. He circled the item slowly, cocking his head to see it from all angles. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”
“I know,” she said. “It’s definitely unique.”
Mark gave her a puzzled look. “Is it real? Or is it some sort of - I don’t know - THRUSH gadget?”
“THRUSH?” she exclaimed. “Oh Mark, come on! Do you think I’m that gullible?”
“No, no, of course not!” he assured her hastily, seeing her temper rising. “Something from our R&D department..?”
“Out!” she snarled, pointing to the door.
Mark opened his mouth, saw her narrowed eyes and decided that discretion was the better part of valor. “I’ll see you at the office,” he said, grabbing his jacket and heading for the door.
April waited until he had closed the door carefully behind him and then turned back to her kitchen. “There, there,” she cooed, patting the object of their discussion. “He’s English, you know. I guess he’s just not ready for a polka-dot refrigerator.”