“Come in, Mr. Bohlen.” The personnel manager, a fine-looking man with curly gray hair—perhaps a fashion wig—welcomed him into his office. “This won’t take but a moment.” He eyed Jack keenly. “Mr. Bohlen, why aren’t you cashing your paychecks?” There was silence. “Aren’t I?” Jack said. His heart thudded ponderously, making his body shake. He felt unsteady and tired. I thought I was, he said to himself. “You could stand a new suit,” the personnel manager said, “and you need a haircut. Of course, it’s your business.” Putting his hand to his scalp, Jack felt about, puzzled; did he need a haircut?
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