Blood risk

up watching television, dressed in her favorite old quilted robe, ravishing. She said, "How'd it go with the bells?"
        "I got the seller a price he was satisfied with and the buyer a price he could accept. But it wasn't easy. How'd your pickle commercial go with Plunket?"
        "Marvelous," she said. "I seemed to have this fantastic talent for it." Then, as he shrugged out of his suit jacket, she said, "What's that? What happened to your arm?"
        He had already gone over, to himself, the story he would have to tell her. He said, "I was shot." When she started up from the bed, he motioned her back and said, "Don't make me feel like an invalid, because it's only a flesh wound."
        "But how, why?" she asked.
        He said, "It was nothing more serious than an average all-American mugging, when I was on my way to my hotel."
        "A mugging? In Denver?"
        "What's so strange about a mugging in Denver?" he asked. "We're living in dangerous times, honey. The world's full of dangerous men."