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Sally interjected after her friend looked forward once more. “The polite thing to do would be to offer your services as chaperones. That is, if we won’t be interfering with the drinking holiday.” “Well, sure, Sally—” “This isn’t a drinking weekend!” Wally ignored Eddie’s hurt look. “I also have some business to attend to! And I can’t follow you around New York looking for Easter outfits!” Wally’s voice was a loud hiss in the otherwise silent car. “Well, fine, Eddie will be the gentleman this weekend.” Sally looked straight ahead, the whites of knuckles that forcefully gripped her parasol hidden beneath two snow white gloves. Wally let out a puff of heated air and plopped himself back down on the bench to stare out the window at the passing countryside.
############The taxi carrying the four travelers from Monroe arrived in front of the Concourse “Hotel” after the sun had already fallen past the western skyline of the city, and all four smiled as they stepped into the warmth and the light of the lobby, the ladies holding their parasols tight against their bosoms and the men carrying the bags for all. The smiles on the ladies’ faces faded when the grime of the establishment became clear with a lack of distance, and Wally quickly moved to the concierge’s window to obtain the key for his reserved suite and inquire about a second set of rooms for his unanticipated companions. The unshaved Irishman beyond the glass divide was adamant: there were no more rooms to be had for the weekend. Wally retreated from the window with a muttered “thanks,” and informed the others that there was only one suite for the four of them. |