< previous page page_17 next page >

Page 17
fib. Then she realized it was impossible. She had to offer identification. "No," she said, "I am an American, but"
"American? Why"
The coin Linda had inserted fell, signaling that time had almost run out. Quick to seize opportunity, Linda said, "Oh, Mrs. Bates, I am so sorry. I don't have another coin. May I call you back in"
"Never mind, Miss Hepler."
Linda's heart sank. She thought she had outfoxed herself, giving an impression of inefficiency by neglecting to provide herself with extra coins.
However, Mrs. Bates continued, "It would be better if you came round to see me. I am at Eleven Queen Street. Come at four. Goodbye."
It was amazing, Linda thought, as she replaced the phone, how a shoddy room, having to get up and come down for an ill-served and ill-cooked breakfast, and not being able to get room service or maid service to pamper every whim altered one's point of view. In spite of being intellectually aware of security, her emotional response was anxiety. She wanted that job almost as desperately as a girl without resources. Perhaps she wanted it even more desperately, Linda decided after mulling matters over, because she wasn't used to insecurity.
Returning to her room, Linda divided her

 
< previous page page_17 next page >