“What extent of credit do you require, Miss Belgium? Perhaps I should ask that in crowns-what is your amount with my colleagues
in Saint Louis?” –
“I am a gold client, sir. My account is always reckoned in bullion rather than crowns under their two-tier method for gold customers. Can we figure it that way? You see, I’m not used to thinking in bruins. I travel so much that it is easier for me to think in grams of gold.” (It is almost unfair to mention gold to a banker in asoft-currency country; it clouds his thinking.)
“You wish to pay in gold?”
“If I may. By draft in grams, three nines, on Ceres and South Africa Acceptances, Luna City office. Would that be satisfactory? I usually pay quarterly-you see, I travel so much-but I can instruct C. and S. A. A. to pay you monthly if quarterly is not convenient.”
“Quarterly is quite satisfactory.” (Of course it was-the interest charges pile up.)
“Now the credit limit- Truthfully, sir, I don’t like to place too much of my financial activity in any one bank or any one country. Shall we hold it down to thirty kilos?”
“If that is your wish, Miss Bedlam. If you ever wish to increase it, just let us know.” He added, “Chambers. Do it.”
So we went back to the same office in which I had been told that my credit was no good. Mr. Chambers offered me an application form. “Let me help you fill it out, miss.”
I glanced at it. Parents’ names. Grandparents’ names. Place and date of birth. Addresses including street numbers for the past fifteen years. Present employer. Past employer immediately preceding. Reason for leaving past employment. Present rate of pay. Bank accounts. Three references from persons who have known you at least ten years. Have you ever applied for bankruptcy or had a petition of involuntary receivership filed against you or been a director or responsible officer of any business, partnership, or corporation that has applied for reorganization under paragraph thirteen of Public Law Ninety-Seven of the California Confederacy Civil Code? Have you ever been convicted of- “Friday. No.”
“So I was about to say.” I stood up.
Georges said, “Good-bye, Mn. Chambers.”
“Something wrong?”
“But yes. Your employer told you to issue to Miss Baldwin a gold credit card with a limit of thirty kilograms, fine gold; he did not tell you to subject her to an impertinent quiz.”
“But this is a routine require-”
“Never mind. Just tell J.B. you flubbed again.”
Our Mn. Chambers turned a light green. “Do please sit down.”
Ten minutes later we left, me with a brand-new gold-colored credit card good anywhere (I hoped). In exchange I had listed my Saint Louis P.O. box number, my next-of-kin address (Janet), and my account number in Luna City with a written instruction to bill C and S.A.A., Ltd. quarterly for my debts. I also had a comfortable wad of bruins and another like it of crowns, and a receipt for my lottery ticket.
We left the building, crossed the corner into National Plaza, found a bench, and sat down. It was just eighteen, pleasantly cool but the sun was still high above the Santa Cruz Mountains.
Georges inquired, “Dear Friday, what are your wishes?”
“To sit here for a moment and collect my thoughts. Then I should buy you a drink. I won a lottery; that calls for buying a drink. At least.”
“At least,” he agreed. “You won two hundred thousand bruins for. . . twenty bruins?”
“A dollar,” I agreed. “I tipped her the change.”
“Near enough. You won about eight thousand dollars.”
“Seventy-four hundred and seven dollars and some cents.”
“Not a fortune but a respectable sum of money.”
“Quite respectable,” I agreed, “for a woman who started the day dependent on the charity of friends. Unless I’m credited something for my ‘adequate’ performance last night.”
“My brother Ian would prescribe a fat lip for that remark. I wanted to add that, while seventy-four hundred is a respectable sum, I find myself more impressed by the fact that, with no assets other than that lottery ticket, you persuaded a most conservative credit banking firm to extend to you an open account in the amount of a
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