“We don’t give away branch supplies for free, Becky,” Marge said, without looking up from her paperwork.

I laid ten brown paper rolls on the black rubber coin mat between us.

“Take a look at the copper,” I said.

Marge put her pen down on her ledger and picked up one of the rolls.

She ran her thumbnail along the neatly crimped paper edge and turned the roll back and forth under the bright overhead tube light.

“You scrubbed every one of these?” Marge asked.