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Extra info for 6xH: Six stories (AKA The Unpleasant Profession of Jonathan Hoag)
Mr. Hoag, you’ve mentioned St. George Rest Home twice as being your old alma mater. ” Again Hoag looked genuinely startled. “But there is,” he insisted. “Wasn’t I there for— At least they told me that was its name,” he added doubtfully. ” Randall turned toward the door. ” Once they were alone in the elevator she turned to him. ” “Because,” he said bitterly, “while I don’t mind opposition, it makes me sore when my own client crosses me up. He dished us a bunch of lies, and obstructed us, and pulled some kind of sleight of hand on me in that Acme Building deal.
Printemps, Mr. Jones. Mr. Phipps you have met. He is our secretary. Beyond him is seated Mr. Reifsnider and Mr. Snyder—no relation. And finally Mr. Parker and Mr. Crewes. Mr. ” Randall tried to get up again, but the table top seemed unbelievably slippery. “I don’t care,” he said bitterly, “whether you have a quorum or a gang fight. ” “Tut, Mr. Randall. Tut. ” “Not that bad. Damn it, let me—” “But they really must be answered. ” “Yes, you. You are, shall we say, a minor item on the agenda, but one which must be cleared up.
One decent boulevard, one decent suburb to the north, priced for the rich, two universities and a lake. As for the rest, endless miles of depressing, dirty streets. The town was one big stockyard. The apartments gave way to elevated-train yards; the train turned left and headed east. After a few minutes they got off at Stoney Island station; she was glad to be off it and free of that too-frank back view of everyday life, even though she exchanged it for the noise and seedy commercialism of Sixty-third Street.