The Weak Tea of a Friend
Dick climbed into the back seat of the Mercedes. “Slide over, Patty,” he said. “Where’s Premier Chou?” Pat asked. “He’s coming along in the other car,” Dick said, chafing his hands together. “Goddamn, it’s cold here. Never thought of China as being cold.” “Well,” said Pat, “they seem awfully fond of those fur hats.” He…