Death of An Old Sinner
“Mrs. Norris read as she and Helene crossed the street. “I’ve often wondered what a half-room was, and what they did with the other half they didn’t rent you in these places.” She found herself chattering and paying precious little attention to what she was saying. She would not have said she was nervous, but she found herself very, very grateful that Helene Joyce was with her. She caught Mrs. Joyce’s hand as she found the name TIMS on the box. The hand was cold and damp, but firm, telling her s...he was not alone in fear or fierceness.
Helene rang a bell other than Miss Tims’. The buzzer sounded to let them in. “This way if she’s in we’ll be face to face with her at least when she slams the door on our foot.”
“Clever, very clever,” Mrs. Norris said.
“Our foot,” Helene repeated, as she and Mrs. Norris squeezed into the elevator, and giggled.
“This was made for love not elevation,” Mrs. Norris cracked, as they grindingly got off the first floor.
Outside Miss Tims’ door the two women stood and looked at each other.MoreLess
Helene rang a bell other than Miss Tims’. The buzzer sounded to let them in. “This way if she’s in we’ll be face to face with her at least when she slams the door on our foot.”
“Clever, very clever,” Mrs. Norris said.
“Our foot,” Helene repeated, as she and Mrs. Norris squeezed into the elevator, and giggled.
“This was made for love not elevation,” Mrs. Norris cracked, as they grindingly got off the first floor.
Outside Miss Tims’ door the two women stood and looked at each other.MoreLess
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