"Coat hook," Allan said. "With a fancy bit at the top where you can put a nail through into the wall and a round bit on the hook so it doesn't snag yer coat."
He grinned at her, his eyes making one brief appreciative sweep, then he looked at the iron again and whipped it across to the anvil.
"Stand back," he advised as he began to hammer. Sparks flew peppering the front of his chrome leather apron with tiny black marks and making the hair on his forearm sizzle.