Mrs. Loomis, big-jowled, making her heavy way along the hall, won't bother to glance at the mirror. The city boys stare at her from the other side of the screen. One of them grins. The other scowls. Edna Loomis, basset-eyed, looks at them, and the grinning one speaks up.
Car's down at the station off the freeway.
His eyes never meet Mrs. Loomis's square on. Twenty-six dollars a night. Mrs. Loomis scratches inside her ear. You can go on over to the caf6. Tell Maureen I sent you.