She read it, re-read it, checked off the words, then vanished into the back room.
After a while a heavy-set man with sagging shoulders, a green eye-shade pulled low on his forehead, and tobacco stain at the corners of his lips, came out and said, “Your name Lam?”
“Yes.”
“You wanted to put that ad in the paper?”
“Uh huh. How much is it?”
He said, “There might be a story in you.”
I said, “There might, and then again there might not.”
“A little publicity might help you get what you want.”
“And again it might not.”
He looked at the ad, and said, “According to this, there’s some money coming to Mrs. Lintig.”