A few minutes later, Dicky descended the stairs, wearing a black suit, and round, broad-brimmed hat. Somehow, the previously bedraggled man looked tidy, refreshed, and alert. “Do we have time for breakfast?”
Oswell looked at the window and saw that the sun had not yet risen from the earth. “Let’s have some chow.”.
“Blackie,” Dicky said to the oldster in the white suit.
The fellow turned around on the sofa, and Oswell saw that he was blind.
“You’re the one that weighs one hundred an’ seventy, right?” inquired Blackie.
“You are correct.”
“What do you want?”
“My associates and I are hungry. Is there a place in town where we should breakfast?”
“Go to Harry’s Good Eats. Her coffee’ll turn you into a n****r. Food’s good too. Get the pork chops.”
“Thank you,” said Dicky. “And I hope that
