Come on, I said, grabbing her hand. I laughed when I saw she had driven the Montclair. I drove down Main Street and felt like I had been gone for year..., instead of five months. After being able to spend time in Chicago, this town felt so small. It was March 1967, it was cold as a witchs tit, with some fresh snow. Instead of driving right home, I drove out near the lake so I could have few more minutes with my girl. Her lips tasted so good and if it hadnt been so damn cold, I would have been. ”“Don’t you mean, ‘Lead on, MacDuff.’?”“No, Mr. Jones. The correct text from the Shakespeare play MacBeth is, ‘Lay on, MacDuff’. You can use that as a trick question with your friends some time.”“Right. I think you and me might get along after all, Jeeves.”“I do hope so, Mr. Jones.”The tour took us all of half an hour; there were so many rooms to be identified, and I insisted on seeing their interiors, so that I knew their relative sizes and ceiling heights. I also wanted to see whether any of. More

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