Three Bags of Cashews and a Dishonest Sister In Law at the Wedding

will handle it ourselves,” I said.

After Mrs. Gable left, I sat alone in the quiet room with the single lamp burning. I pulled the envelope back out from under the magazine and unfolded the stiff white paper.

The red restricted stamp seemed to glow under the yellow lamplight.

I carried the bank receipt and my old metal filing box to continue reading …