“That’s the smuggest thing I’ve heard anyone say in ages,” he said, and closed his eyes completely after taking a slurp. He opened them again and looked at me as he put his cup down on the table. “I’d say garbageman of the soul would be more accurate.” “Refuse disposal officer, if you don’t mind,” I said. “You know they call the garbage room in the basement here the Milieu Room, don’t you? That makes ‘milieu manager of the soul’ the most correct title.” “Milieu consultant of the soul.”
