Shayne said, “One doesn’t expect thanks.” He touched the breast pocket of his coat holding a deed to a tenth interest in the mine. He grinned to himself and continued, “One’s reward comes from a sense of civic duty well performed. You’ve taught me that, Phyl. The — ah — dignity of my profession as opposed to the sordid and mercenary outlook I used to have before you came into my life.”
“What did you say?”
“I was just saying—”
She advanced upon him swiftly, swathed in a heavy robe, and settled herself on his lap. “I heard you,” she laughed. “You’re wonderful and I adore you, but — I don’t want to change you too much, Michael. It wouldn’t be so hot if you let yourself get in the habit of not collecting fees.”
Shayne pulled her face down and kissed her lips. He promised, “We’ll struggle along somehow. There’s generally a dollar or so to be picked up if a man knows where to look for it.”