“It isn’t so far out in the country as you may think,” Peter told her. “This road follows the Genessee River north to Wellsville and on to Rochester. It crosses Route 17, and I wouldn’t be at all surprised to find a sign at the crossroads directing tourists here. Like it?”
“Love it,” Judy replied. “We’ll have to come here some evening when the place is more lively.”
Danny bounced on one of two sofas opposite each other. “Golly! You could sleep on this,” he exclaimed. “What’s all this furniture for?”
“For people to sit on, of course,” Judy replied, laughing.
“You mean when they’re waiting for other people?”
“Yes, or when they want to rest. It’s sort of a living room for people who stay overnight here. Hotels always have lobbies—”
“Would my father stay overnight here if he came to see me?” Danny interrupted, as they followed the waiter to a table.
“He might.”
Judy and Peter looked at each other. Neither of them wanted to say anything against Danny’s father. Finally, just as they were finishing lunch, Danny produced the note his father had written.
“Here it is,” he said, fishing a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket. “See what it says! ‘I am keeping my promise. I think I have money enough to start a good business. We’ll operate from our own home. I’ll take you back there to live with me very soon....’”