“There would be nobody to meet him at the bus terminal, and Lee didn’t mind in the least. In fact he preferred it. He could walk with his small suitcase the four or five blocks to the Capitol Hotel (he assumed it was still functioning), check in, then telephone Winston Greeves to say he had arrived. Maybe they could even wind up the business with the lawyer today, because it would be only four in the afternoon by the time Lee would be phoning Winston. It was a matter of signing a paper in regard... to the house where Lee Mandeville had been born. Lee owned it, and now he had to sell it, because he needed the money. He didn’t care, he wasn’t sentimental about the two-story white house with the green lawn in front. Or was he? Lee honestly didn’t think so. He’d had some nasty, unpleasant hours in that house, as well as a few happy ones—a barefoot boyhood, tossing a football with chums from the neighborhood on the front lawn. He had lost Louise there, too. Lee shifted in his seat, rested his cheek against his hand which was lightly closed in a fist, and stared out the window at the Indiana landscape that drifted past.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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