At nine o’clock when his shift was over, Hank went back to the hole-in-the-wall office next to the kitchen. “Okay if I take an envelope and stamp, Lou?” he asked the owner, who was tallying receipts. “Somebody forgot something.”
“Sure. Go ahead. I’ll take the price of the stamp out of your paycheck.” Lou grunted with what passed for a smile. Short-tempered by nature, he genuinely liked Hank. The kid was a good worker and knew how to treat customers. “Here, use one of these.” He handed a plain white envelope to Hank, who quickly scribbled the address he had decided to use. Then Hank reached for the stamp Lou was holding out to him.
Ten minutes later he dropped the envelope in a mailbox as he jogged back to his dorm at St. John’s University.
4
Olivia was one of the first tenants of Schwab House on the West Side of Manhattan. Now, fifty years later, she still lived there. The apartment complex was built on grounds that had previously been the site of the mansion of a wealthy industrialist. The builder had decided to retain his name, hoping that some of the grandeur surrounding the mansion would be passed on to its sprawling replacement.
Olivia’s first apartment had been a studio facing West End Avenue. As she steadily climbed the ladder to the executive branch of B. Altman and Company, she had begun to look for a larger place. She had intended to move to the East Side of Manhattan, but when a two-bedroom with a magnificent view of the Hudson became available in Schwab House, she had happily taken it.