- 3 -
“And file this stack of account statements.”
“Yes, Sir,” Godfrey said through clenched teeth, glaring up at Mr. Peverley.
All afternoon, the bank manager had been dumping work on him while ignoring the other tellers.
“And be quick about it too,” he added with a wave of his hand. “You Frenchmen can be as slow as molasses.”
Godfrey bit his tongue as he pulled the stack of paper into his teller’s booth, all the while thinking that the weekend couldn’t come soon enough and that Leo’s offer was starting to look a lot more attractive.