CHAPTER EIGHT
It was a week later, and Greta had gone back to Washington with a promise that both Mike and Lisa would soon come up there for a visit.
Greta had delicious memories of her trip to Alabama, and she was determined to never let a treasure like Lisa get away from her, if she could help it.
But poor Lisa was left in the sleepy town of Bedelia, where the magnolias bloomed lazily and the dogs slept in the hot sun, where the cars boiled in the mid-afternoon, and the people stayed in-doors and sipped Cokes or bourbon to try to forget the midsummer heat. Lisa found that her life had slipped back to its flat routine, its terrible dullness. Mike was gone on a trip to London, where the publisher of his new book wanted to discuss a lot of angles that he felt Mike should develop. The boo
