double cross Joy Ray Jennet pulled the page from her typewriter and looked nervously at her wristwatch. It was almost time. From the inner office came sounds of her boss preparing to leave. The sounds were doors opening and closing. These sounds were well-known to her after 8 years as his secretary. Then her boss himself stood at the door, pushing along arm into his top coat. She saw how good he looked in his great suit. It seemed just right against his brain and hair.' Good night, Mr. Masen.' She said with a weak smile.' Good night, Jennet. I'll see you Monday morning as usual.' He was quick and friendly. Perhaps she only imagined that look a concern in his eyes as he walked out. Jennet covered her typewriter. She pulled a lipstick and mirror from her purse. Her hands were cold and shaky when she began to written her lips, and run a cone though a hair. There would be no time to stop that the woman's restaurant this evening to do this. She felt a terror slowly rising up inside herself. How could she ever go though it? But she knew she must. She was too late to retreat. She reached into a drawer and pulled out an knitting basket and ball of wall with noodle sticking out. At the bottom of the basket laid three microfilms, each in a metal case. She stared at them, feeling guilty. She felt a nerval shock as the * glue. She stuffed wall back into the basket. She seized her purse and took her last look around the office. Then she walked into the hall, felt what's a secretaries in clerks hurry in home. Doors opened and more workers walked out into the hall. The click of high hears made the pouring of Jennet's heart seem louder, as she moved alone with the crowd. She was like every Friday. There wasn't noisy excitement in the air. Everyone * to leave their desks. The weekends play ahead. Jennet held her person one end, with a neting basket pucked over her rest. She pushed the way outside into the afternoon sunshine.
standing looking out into the street. Long after the three cars had disappeared from sight. She still thought none, dead. She wondered when she would begin to feel something. The pain and guilt of wave who had betrayed her husband. She thought back over everything at led up to that betray on. To the night, last 6 weeks after their marriage. She lay with heard on his arm, and his hands gently stroke her hair. He can face to her his connections, and told her what he expected her to do. She remembered horror she felt over this terrible request, the shake and disbelieve. Her instinct to being the cry out to rebel. But sound in her voice had warned her to be careful. This was something bigger than just herself and her marriage. A marriage now broken into little pieces. And it had been something bigger than herself which made her tell her boss perfects. His commonest quire it her. She was able later to listen to a plan he developed together with the FBI for her to go along with her husband's plans. It was almost dark outside when she turned from the window and reached for a table land. She crossed the room, she had shared with Charles's hip. She took off her coat and opened a door to the clothes closet. She reached a clothes hanger. Suddenly she stopped. One side of the closet was empty, all his clothes were gone. She looked around the room, all his things were gone. As if there never had been such a person as Charles here. She was sharply hit by the four meaning of the situation. Charles had never meant to return. She had just been his tool, marr her for his purpose. She wondered how many other tools there had been before her. She started to laugh. Then her lifter turned into saps, great, hiving saps. And she threw herself across the ban. As she gave in to a misery, there was a fleeting thought.' I'll cry tonight. Tomorrow, I'll call my lawyer.