“Yes, please, Donald,” I said, pushing the endorsed green check across the black felt counter mat.

“And while you’ve got our file up on your screen, print me the full quarterly ledger on paper.”

Donald hit four keys on his computer terminal and waited while the little dot matrix printer behind his leather chair finished humming.

He tore the white sheet off the roller, peeled away the perforated side strips, and laid the page flat on the counter between us.

“I take it Bob talked to you about the recurring monthly electronic debit,” Donald said, his voice sinking into a careful, measured whisper.