“Yes. I . . . I’m sorry to impose on your schedule like this . . .”
“Nonsense. Glad to help. That’s why I’m self-employed . . . so I can control my own schedule. Please. Have a seat and make yourself at home.”
Once we were seated, however, I found myself at a loss as to how I should begin the conversation. But, with the Butterfly watching me with attentive expectation, I felt I had to say something.
“Um . . . Edvik tells me you met at an art auction?”
“That’s right . . . though I’ll admit that for me it was more of a whim than anything else. Edvik is really much more the collector and connoisseur than I am.” The cabbie preened visibly under the implied praise. “No. I just dropped by out of curiosity. I had heard that this particular auction had a reputation for being a lot of fun, so I pulled a couple thousand out of the bank and wandered in to see for myself. The auctioneers were amusing, and the bidding was lively, but most of the art being offered didn’t go with my current decor. So when that one particular item came up . . .”
I tried to keep an interested face on, but my mind wasn’t on his oration. Instead, I kept pondering the easy way he had said “. . . so I pulled a couple thousand . . .” Clearly this was a different kind of Pervect than Aahz was. My old partner would have been more willing to casually part with a couple pints of his blood than with gold. “. . . But in the long run it worked out fine.” The Butterfly was finishing his tale, and I laughed dutifully along with him.