The rest of the day was the rest of the day, more or less, and hardly anyone else complained to her about the stranger, so that she'd forgotten he existed at all by the time she returned from her lunch break to find him waiting at the meat counter.
He had a long wool overcoat, warm brown like a weasel in the summer, open so that you could see he was dressed for business underneath, though what business could it possibly be for? Here, now, there was only the town paper, and Pearwax would have mentioned if he'd been the type. He kept one hand in his pocket and dangled the other at his side, until he saw her come up behind the counter, and then it and the rest of him were animated from within.
"Good afternoon!" he said. "You must be Mob."
"Moblynn," she corrected. "What can I do for you?"
"Oh, yes, Moblynn, of course. I'm sorry to be overfamiliar, it's just that I almost feel I know you already, from what people say about you!" He laughed like he expected her to agree.