“You’re a ‘badger and blade’ kind of guy, aren’t you?”

I looked at her, slightly amused.

“Not many girls would know what that term meant.”

“Not many guys know either.”

“Touche.”

Silence. Quizzical regard. Wondering.

“Styptic pencil,” she said, by way of explanation, and smiled. I touched my face.

“I suppose I was in a bit of a rush this morning.”

She slipped a torn corner of pink notepaper into my hand as she flounced away. “Call me sometime.”