'And the fireman rushes in, from the pouring rain…'
He quickly took off his dripping raincoat and hung it on a coat peg, and assumed a seat in the waiting area. The banker sneezed softly into a carefully folded white handkerchief, blew his nose, dabbed at his eyes, and turned to the fireman.
"I'b sorry. I'b caught a bid of a cold," he explained, colouring a little. The fireman looked at him fondly.
"Try keeping yourself a little drier, my friend. You might not catch cold so often." Each gave the other a small, gentle smile. They had known each other for nigh on forty years.
They sat comfortably together, the banker sneezing apologetically every now and again, and neither saying much.