He would not think of Carla, though; he would not think of her for a little while. He would wait until he was in his room.
After a long time, after ten minutes, the train stopped at his station and he climbed out of the ground and stood on the concrete surface of the earth; a suggestion of morning was in the sky and the wind blew fresh and cold from the river. He walked to his hotel.
“Evening,” said the clerk behind the desk.
“Good evening,” said Holton.
“Is it getting colder out?”
Holton nodded. “Probably be a real cold day tomorrow.” He walked over to the counter. “Have I got any mail?”
“Let’s see ... that’s...?”
“Holton.”
The clerk looked, then shook his head. “No mail, Mr Holton.” He paused. “You was in the army?”
“Yes, I was in the army.”