"He won't get a girlfriend."
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“He won’t get
a girlfriend.”
"SO?
CAN’T HE DO THAT AT HIS OWN PACE?"
“I thought
that too, ten years ago. But here he is, mid-thirties and still living with
me.”
“AND
WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO ABOUT IT?”
“Well, I was
hoping you could help me set him up with someone.”
“YOU DO
UNDERSTAND THAT I RUN THE LONDON MAFIA; NOT A DATING SITE?”
“I do, but I
also know that you’re the best person I know to fix something.”
“I SEE.
WELL BY A HAPPY COINCIDENCE I MIGHT BE ABLE TO HELP. HE WORKS IN WESTMINSTER
UNIVERSITY, DOESN’T HE?”
You’ve always
been impressed by how much Macavity knows, usually about very obscure things.
On one occasion, you decided to ask him about it; he just shrugged and said “I
HAVE MANY FINGERS IN MANY PIES” and the subject was never mentioned again.
“That’s right,
yes. Why do you need an insider at the university?”
“THE
LESS YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT, THE BETTER.”
That’s
certainly true. Whatever it is, it’s bound to be bad.
“VERY
WELL. I’LL WORK SOMETHING OUT AND SEND YOU A MESSAGE VIA THE SHARKWEB WITH A
TIME AND PLACE TO SEND HIM. TRAPDOOR OR REGULAR DOOR?”
“I’ll take the normal exit thanks.”
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