What a guy. Reminded her of some of the orthopedic residents in Tulane.

Gin had been under the impression that she was going to be interviewed by Senator Marsden himself.

"The senator is on the floor, " Joe Blair had told her.

Gin had looked around. "I don't understand." '"That means he's in the Senate, " Blair said with a condescending smile. "On the floor of the Senate."

"I see." She did her best to hide her disappointment.

"Besides, the senator doesn't do the hiring and firing. I do.

Oh, great. Her disappointment was swept away by a wave of apprehension.

She had the distinct impression that Blair didn't like her.

Blair gave her a quick tour of the office. She'd already seen the small front section with its two receptionists, one male, one female, and its antiseptic, dentist's waiting-room ambience. The rear space was much larger and sloppier, looking like a real working office with modular work spaces, cluttered desks, sagging bookshelves, glaring computer monitors, empty coffee cups, papers and folders Lying on every available horizontal surface. And phones. Phones everywhere, each bearing a little U. S. Senate seal.

The staff occupied two floors that communicated via a central stairway.

The two-tiered space offered more room than most senators had, but Marsden represented one of the larger states, and she knew "appropriation by population" was religious dogma on the Hill.

The second floor was pretty much like the first except for a small lounge and the computer room that housed the central processor for the office's LAN. The striking feature of the second floor was the mail room with its bins, many bins, of letters. Blair told her anywhere from ten to fifteen thousand pieces of mail were sorted, filed, and answered on a weekly basis by the staffs legislative correspondents.