“Hey, Val, Mr. White’s here!” Val turned out to be a blond woman, in her late twenties, if Roger Too White was any judge. Everything about her, especially the provocative way she lowered her eyebrows when she smiled, gave off whiffs of frisky trouble. She came into the entry hall from some side room with the same desperate delight in her eyes as the coach. “Hi!” She really sang it out. “Mr. White, I want you to meet my wife, Val!”
